Blood of the Damned
by PartSpace
Summary: The Warden Commander Elissa Cousland has made a few too many deals with devils. First Morrigan, and then the Architect. There will be consequences, just as there will be when Alistair meets the new Wardens she's conscripted in his absence.
1. Chapter 1

_ The Old Gods knew of the simple power behind the blood of the sacrificed, while the weaklings of today ignore it. They fear power, just as all feeble-minded fools do. The followers of the Old Gods drank the blood of their brethren, of the damned, of their mothers and their children as they reveled and writhed in darkness. Oh yes, my friend. There is power in blood. It is the distilled essence of life, of all life, from the dragon to the worm, the peasant to the king. The winners of wars are decided by blood, the heirs to thrones are decided by blood. When a girl becomes a woman is decided by blood, and a boy a man when he spills it in battle or on the hunt. Forgive me, my friend. I have gotten away from what it is I wanted to say. I do have a tendency to wax poetic, don't I? The Old Gods. The ancient magisters who sought out the Golden City. They knew the power. Yes, yes, they failed. But, my friend... No, no, don't struggle, be still. The Old Gods faded, and the magisters failed. But they do like to say that the third time is the charm._

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><p>No matter how long he walked, the farmhouse didn't seem to get any closer. It might just be because walking had become such a chore. Alistair's knee throbbed and swelled inside his armor. The darkspawn blade had gotten lucky, that was all. He'd deflected the blade off his shield, but the downward swing slipped behind the plate of the poleyn and damn near took off his kneecap. At least, he thought his kneecap was still attached. He hadn't bothered taking off his armor to check.<p>

Toby had been carrying the healing poultices, so that was hardly an option. The young man had been dragged off the road and into the darkness by blight wolves, and his screaming had ended some time ago, long before Alistair had finished killing the small band of darkspawn that sprang out of the gound. Alistair wouldn't be able to find him, not until daybreak. If there was anything left of him.

The darkspawn were gone for now. The Grey Warden in him couldn't sense any more of them, but they had been here for some time. Signs of their taint stretched over the land like greasy fingers. It wasn't as bad here near Amaranthine as it had been in southern Ferelden. The land had not been completely spoiled. The farms here could recover. Considering who was in charge of keeping the Blight at bay up here, Alistair wasn't entirely surprised.

Was it a floating farmhouse? Was that it? Some sort of magical floating house that inched away every time you took a step towards it. Well, if his body couldn't reach it, his voice certainly could. He lifted his hand to pull off his helmet, and called out, "Is anyone there? I'm… not too proud to say I could use some assistance!"

The candlelight behind the vellum windows flickered and moved towards the door. It opened to reveal a lean woman with wide, haunted eyes. "Who's there?"

"My name is Alistair!" He took another careful, pained step forward. Nope, the house still seemed forever away. "I'm injured!"

"Maker, it's a Grey Warden!" The woman turned back to the house, "Ewing, it's a Grey Warden, get out there and help him!"

How did she- ah. Yes. The shiny new armor. Well, less shiny. Covered in dark, sticky darkspawn blood at present. But the crest across his chest was unmistakable: a brilliant white griffin, edged with blue. The Wardens had been in this area for months, and everyone was bound to recognize the symbol.

"I'm not going out there!" answered a man who was undoubtedly Ewing. "They're still out there, I don't care what no one says."

Alistair let out a sigh, pressing the tip of his blade against the road and leaning on it like a cane. "There are no darkspawn at present. I slew those I met. If I could just… have a place to rest for a few moments…"

The woman scowled at the man still hidden within the house, and she shook her head. She jogged to Alistair's side in a surprisingly short amount of time, lantern in hand. "Useless, that's what he is. Lean on me, pet. I'll get you inside."

Alistair tried very hard not to lean too heavily on her. Skinny as the woman was, he'd knock her over with the weight of his body and his heavy armor. With her aid, the house finally seemed to sit still, and he was shortly inside, sitting at the table. The house was small and modest, but clean and comfortable. A warm, homey fire blazed in the hearth, and the lid on a boiling pot of what smelled like rabbit stew clicked and rattled as the pot hung on a spit over the flames. A single bed, barely wide enough for two was pushed into the corner while a large braided rug covered much of the dirt floor. A simple home for simple folk. Definitely a step up from the dog kennels he spent most nights in as a child.

"Thank you. I really do appreciate this. I'll pay you for the trouble." The greave on his injured leg came off with some difficulty. The inside was coated with blood, and it adhered firmly to his trouser leg as it congealed into sticky red glue.

Ewing stood at the window, twitchy and ill at ease. He had a gaunt face and an uneven beard, dressed in simple clothes. "None of this was here before the Wardens arrived. Andraste's teeth, Clovis, don't offer him tea!"

Alistair looked back at the woman to see her setting a clay cup on the table before him, and filling it with hot water from a copper kettle. "He ain't a puppy," Clovis answered. "He won't follow us about the rest of his life if we feed him." She leaned back and gave Alistair a motherly smile, "He's a Grey Warden, he is. Least we can do for his kind. Now, let me see what herbs I've got for your injuries there."

"He's a fool is what he is." Ewing muttered back. "Thinks he's invincible, wandering the roads like this at night, all alone."

"Uhm, I'm right here." Alistair lifted his hand. "And I wasn't alone. My travelling companion was… well, killed. Probably." For a moment he envisioned poor Toby in a blight wolf's belly. He took a quick sip of the weak tea to wash away the sour taste the thought brought to his mouth. "And I was only travelling at night because-"

"Shut up, you ungrateful old bastard," Clovis hissed.

"What, me?" Alistair blinked at her.

"No! Him." She stabbed a finger in the direction of the scowling Ewing. "We're alive today because of the Wardens up at the Keep." Her head shook, "I ain't been to town since the attack, but they say it could have been much worse."

"Ah, right." Of course. He'd lost some blood. It was making him loopy. For a moment there he was ready to ask her how she knew he was a bastard. He refocused his attention on his knee. It was a deep slice, and left a bloody flap of flesh just barely attached. He grimaced in pain, and took a handful of raggedy bandages from the basket Clovis set before him.

Clovis went on, "You should have heard some of the things people were saying about the Warden Commander. I ain't met her, but they were saying it was all revenge on Rendon Howe, that she was going to punish all of us on his behalf. I never liked Howe, I don't owe him any loyalty. He was a traitor, he was."

Alistair couldn't help but smile at the mention of the Warden Commander. "I was only traveling at night because I thought I could reach Vigil's Keep within the hour." He'd gone without seeing Elissa Cousland for far too long. To be so close now, the idea of delaying another day was too much. All he wanted to do was see her alive and well, then scoop her up and kiss her until she was dizzy. He ran the scene over and over in his mind as they marched on the road to Amaranthine: the color of her eyes, the touch of her skin, the smell of her hair. Yes, there was that selfish desire to just hold her, but he'd seen black smoke on the horizon. Black smoke from the direction of Amaranthine. He'd spotted it when they were barely outside of Highever. From that moment on it was a nonstop determined march with light meals, no sleep, and lots and lots of walking. After a quick dinner of cheese and apples, he'd ordered Toby back to the road.

The smile faded. Toby's death was his fault. Selfish fool.

"Howe was a good man. Never did us any ill will," Ewing said, arms crossing.

This brought Alistair out of his momentary lapse into self loathing. He looked back up at Ewing with narrowed eyes. "Howe betrayed the King. Killed nearly all the Couslands of Highever. Imprisoned and tortured nobles and Templars that would have threatened Loghain's rule. And you stand there and call him a 'good man?'"

Some of the wind left Ewing's sails, and he stepped back from the Grey Warden. "He took care of his people," he finally stammered, then crossed the room to scoop up a pair of work boots, and busied himself removing caked dirt from the soles.

"As did the Warden Commander," Clovis hollered back at her husband. She clucked, and set a clay bowl of stew before Alistair. She sat across from him with a bag of dried herbs. "He's threatened by you, pet, that's all. A handsome young man in shining armor shows up at my door at midnight, he thinks you're here to sweep me away. Let's have a look there."

Alistair smiled at her, then chuckled, leaning back in the chair. "What happened here? I would have come sooner…"

"The siege is over, you missed all the fun." She opened a calico sewing kit and plucked a needle and thread from within. "Darkspawn attacked the Keep and the city. They've been roaming the countryside for weeks. Tavis, just down the road? Whole family was slaughtered by them, poor man." She clicked her tongue and shook her head, patting at his wound with a wet towel. "Anyhow, the Warden Commander, she saved the city, and the Vigil still stands. They say it was the dwarf that fortified the place, that it would have certainly fallen otherwise. Amaranthine is in sorry shape, but it would have been much much worse had she not been there."

He began to smile again, and let his heavy eyelids drop to picture Elissa in all her glory, slaughtering an armada of darkspawn. "She's a remarkable woman."

"You say that like you know her," Clovis' gaze flicked to his face. "Should I be jealous?"

Alistair chuckled, placing a hand over his heart, "I'm afraid so. I'm spoken for, dear lady." Maker, he was tired. To his bones. He shouldn't have pushed to get here so fast, but what choice did he have?

"Should have figured as much." She cut the thread with her teeth, and knotted one end. "Anyhow. Darkspawn have started to disappear now. Few stragglers, as you saw. But it all seems to be over."

"Mm." He was dimly aware of pinpricks at his knee, and he also reminded himself that he was every bit as hungry as he was tired. There was rabbit stew in the bowl beside him and warm tea and a warm fire, with yellow tongues licking up the chimney, and there was a warm soft voice telling him to rest, and Toby was terribly apologetic, that he didn't mean to fall behind. That he was sorry he didn't have the front of his torso anymore, but Elissa was at Alistair's shoulder and told him it was all right, to run along. There was someone in the basement they needed to see. She led him down a dark passage where Rendon Howe sat at a table, dining on blight wolf meat and making polite conversation, and making Elissa Cousland laugh. She took Alistair by the hand again and led him away, somehow into the Deep Roads where Toby was apologizing again, where the passages were lined with tall, blood-streaked vellum windows, where countless darkspawn strained against the opposite side of the windows with snapping jaws, waiting for the strength to build enough to break through and attack.

The dream got more pleasant from there, but still absurd, as dreams tend to be. In the morning the only bits Alistair could remember were the chatty Howe and the army of darkspawn waiting on the other side of the thin, red splattered divide.


	2. Chapter 2

The winter ahead would be difficult. The Blight had caused so much damage to the farmlands, much as the Warden Commander tried to protect them. The harvest had been lean, and there would be many hungry bellies before the season broke. But no one should starve, Maker willing. It would be difficult, but Amaranthine and her people would survive.

The city was in need of repair, but so was Vigil's Keep. The long assault from the darkspawn hoard had leveled an outer wall, collapsed an underground passage, and burned the kennels and gardens to ash. But the Vigil still stood. Voldrik, the dwarf, was eager to begin rebuilding. He'd already come to the Warden Commander with plans and improvements, everything from upgrading the Keep to traditional dwarven structural integrity to a complete system of storm water runoff into underground basins.

"We could put in a retention pond, but that's a waste if you ask me," Voldrik said. He stood with Elissa Cousland in the Keep courtyard, tapping a spot on his incredibly detailed plans. "And it would be easy to run the water into a basin that would empty into the sea, that's what you've got now, but-"

Elissa took in a deep breath, then put on a smile as she rested a hand on the dwarf's shoulder, "Voldrik, this is your area of expertise, not mine. I trust you to make the right decision on everything the Keep needs. Just… go ahead and do whatever needs to be done."

For a moment, Voldrik looked offended. It occurred then to Elissa that he wasn't looking for her approval on his plans. He was showing them off. He rolled the paper up, nodding, "Right, Warden. I'll get on it."

"Thank you, Voldrik. We'd be lost without you," she added in an attempt to repair his ego a bit.

It had been only two days since the attack. Since then, the darkspawn had been silent. Disturbingly so. Even random stragglers were rare.

The Architect had kept his word.

She pushed that out of her mind. She hadn't come to regret allying with the intelligent darkspawn leader yet. But that day would come. Just as the day would come when Morrigan's child would reappear. Ugh. She didn't want to think about that, either.

What she needed was a hot bath and a few precious moments to herself. Nothing had stopped after the last darkspawn was slain. No time to recharge. Repairs aside, there was also the matter of looking for survivors, burning the dead, and clearing away the dead darkspawn. That was a task she assigned exclusively to the Grey Wardens, much to their chagrin. But the threat of taint, even from a corpse, was too high. A handful of city guard had already begun to slowly and painfully succumb to the sickness that came with ingesting darkspawn blood. She had tried to save who she could with the Joining. Elissa had managed to recruit five new Wardens in a row, with only one lost. It was unheard of. And was not able to be repeated. Every single guard and soldier she tried to save from the taint perished. Duncan had told her once that the Joining was not a cure, and she felt foolish for even trying it.

She turned to return to the Keep when she heard someone call to her. She paused on the stairs and turned to see Nathaniel Howe walking towards her with a set jaw and fury in his eyes.

"That dwarf," he growled.

"Oghren? What's he done now?"

"No, the other one. Voldrik. Did you tell him he could do whatever he wanted to the Vigil?"

"I did… what's the matter?"

Nathaniel threw his hands up in the air and paced in an angry line, "He wants to tear down the chapel! He says that it sustained minor damage, but represents a defensive weak spot in the unlikely event of darkspawn tunneling up into it from below. Unlikely!" He spun back to face her, lean face flushed with anger. "My grandparents were married in that chapel. My brother, my sister, and myself were all baptized in that chapel. If he removes a single stone from it, I swear to the Maker I will cut off his beard and feed it to him!"

Elissa watched him rant, a faint smile touching her features. By some small miracle, she had earned his trust and friendship again. They had known each other as children, back in simpler times. Summers spent on the Amaranthine shore were plentiful, and winter holidays huddled before the fireplace in the Highever Estate with the Howes as guests became a tradition. Highever and Amaranthine were a few days travel apart, and her father and Rendon Howe were close friends. In turn, Nathaniel and her brother Fergus were thick as thieves, both being the eldest.

She'd tried to recall what he was like as a child, compared to the man he became. As was often the case with her brother's friends, all she could remember was being teased often, and being told to leave them alone.

She must have been staring at him a bit too long. Nathaniel tilted his head at her with a curious quirk of his brow, "What is it?"

"Nothing, sorry." She shook her head, "I was just thinking about you and Fergus."

A small smile appeared on his pale face, and he shifted from foot to foot. "Ah. Well. With this all over now, we might have time to reminisce. But the chapel, Commander…"

"Will remain untouched, Nathaniel. Don't worry."

He nodded with a soft thank you, and lifted his gaze from his feet to her face, brows pulled together, "Elissa, I-"

"Commander! Commander, someone approaches!"

Elissa turned to see a young squire running up from the gate towards her. "What? Who?"

"A Grey Warden!" answered the boy, flushed and short of breath. "He said not to run up and tell you, that he wanted to surprise you, but you said to tell you if anyone unusual came up, and well, ma'am, he's a bit odd all right."

Alistair. The aching weariness she'd felt a moment ago disappeared, and with a quick, "Excuse me," to Nathaniel, she ran from the courtyard, down the sloping hill past the front gate, and towards the lone armored figure trudging up the road.

The man on the road lifted his head, and his own steps quickened towards her, albeit with a new, slight limp. For a moment, just a moment, Elissa wondered if she should even indulge in a silly, schoolgirl embrace, in front of all her men and Wardens.

Alistair made the decision for her. Powerful arms encircled her, and lifted her off her feet in a crushing embrace. "Maker," he breathed into her ear. "Don't ever let me be away from you that long again."

Elissa's arms wrapped back about him. His armor was too thick and heavy to feel the warmth of his hard body, and she made a mental note to get him out of it as soon as possible. He smelled of sweat and dirt, with bits of dried blood caught in his hair and the beard that had blossomed on his chin after a few days without a razor. "You look like hell," she murmured, cupping his boyish face in her hands.

"Ah, this is why I was in such a hurry. The glowing compliments from my one and only." He stole a quick kiss, and then released her. "I could do with a warm bath and a hot meal, though. Sorry I took so long. Roads were awful."

"You're hurt," she said, stepping back and looking down at his leg.

"It's nothing. Stepped in a badger hole."

She looked back at him with a coy, dubious expression. "How's Fergus?"

"You know, it's a shame I didn't get much opportunity to talk to him in Denerim," he answered as they walked back towards the Keep. "Your brother is a riot. Told me all kinds of stories about you as a girl. He also gave me lots of blackmail ammunition, just so you know," Alistair gave her a sly look.

She grinned up at him, "I'm sure he also warned you never to harm his baby sister."

"Did I say blackmail? I meant delightful tales from your childhood that will never ever be repeated."

They had crossed the gate back into the Keep, and she saw Nathaniel Howe standing perfectly still and staring at the both of them as they walked arm in arm. Oh, this might be awkward. Elissa hauled Alistair over, "I need to introduce you to all the new Wardens."

"Yeah, that's right," Alistair rocked up on his toes, searching the grounds, "Last letter I got from you said that Oghren of all people was up here. Where is he?"

"I am Nathaniel Howe."

He spoke before Elissa could. Alistair's attention snapped back to the lean, pale man with long black hair and his father's nose. Alistair's eyes narrowed in suspicion, "I'm-… sorry. Did you say Howe?" He looked at Elissa, "You never mentioned a Howe. Is he a Grey Warden? Did you make _him_ a Grey Warden?"

"Alistair-…"

Nathaniel's mouth had formed a thin line, and his jaw flexed as his teeth clenched, "Yes. She did. Do you think me unfit of the honor?"

"Yes!" He looked back at Nathaniel, standing a bit taller, chest puffing out. He had a few inches and stone on the other man, and was making sure he noticed it. "I do! Your father-" He huffed and turned back to her, "His father is responsible for the death of your parents, Elissa! Not to mention he sided with Loghain, we-"

A sinister smile had appeared on Nathaniel's face, and Elissa had never seen him look more like his father than he did in that moment. "We can't all be the bastard son to a king, now can we?"

"Enough, both of you."

Alistair stepped back, but not without scowling at the eldest Howe. He shot Elissa another disbelieving look, before shaking his head and walking away, muttering to himself.

Elissa gave Nathaniel a look of her own, with an unspoken '_Behave_.' She hooked her arm through Alistair's again, leading him away.

They found Oghren inside the Vigil, seated near a fireplace with a tall blonde mage. The dwarf was offering the man a skin, cheerfully describing the merits of the drink within. Apparently, it doubled as a very effective paint stripper.

The mage, Anders, took the skin with a bit of hesitation. "What about the bouquet? Does it have a nice bouquet?"

Oghren let out a bark of laughter, "You're gonna need to have a nice bucket when you're done with this."

"No, no, not bucket. Bouquet, as in- oh, nevermind. Cheers."

Alistair clapped his hands in delight when he spotted the redheaded dwarf, and dropped his pack at the entrance as he jogged towards him, then hopped on one foot after his injured knee cried out in protest. "Oghren! Look at you! A Grey Warden!"

Oghren glanced over, then grinned broadly behind his braided beard. "Well, look who's finally made it! If it isn't the pretty boy!"

Anders paused in lifting the skin to his lips, then pouted a little, "I thought I was the pretty boy."

Alistair caught the dwarf in a headlock, grinding his knuckles into Oghren's scalp. He quickly released him, and grimaced down at his knuckles. "Maker, I wish I hadn't done that. What on earth do you shampoo with?"

Oghren grinned, "Mushroom paste and nug urine. Natural aphrodisiac, ladies can't keep their hands off me."

"Because they're using them to fend you off. Hello!" Anders stood and offered Alistair a hand, "Anders. Apostate mage, Grey Warden, fine dancer. You are?"

Alistair gripped the offered hand and shook it warmly, "Alistair."

"Ooh, right, right. I seem to remember you being mentioned once or twice…" Anders glanced to Elissa. "He's the… um. Who is he?"

"Alistair," Elissa answered, a smile creeping onto her features. "The other Grey Warden. Helped me stop the Blight, killed Loghain..."

"Was he the one who would get drunk and pass out all the time?"

"That was me," Oghren said with a wide grin.

"Ah, then he was the bitchy one, from the Wilds."

Elissa shook her head, "Wrong again."

"Oh, so he was the one who spent all his free time licking his own balls."

"That was the dog," Alistair said with a grimace.

"Sorry, mate, can't place you. Know she's mentioned you, though. Dwarven rot gut?"

Alistair held up a hand, "I've had enough of Oghren's brews to last me a lifetime. Don't think I have any stomach lining left."

"Pansies, the lot of you," Oghren muttered.

"What I'd like to do," Alistair continued, looking over at Elissa, "is get out of this armor. Been in it nearly three days now, I'm sure I smell like death."

"No, that would be Justice," Anders said, plopping back into his chair and taking a swig from Oghren's skin. "You can't even keep yourself straight, can you?"

Quick footsteps echoed off the stone walls as a young squire sprinted towards them, "Warden Commander! Seneschal Varel said to get you. Lord Eddelbrek just arrived."

Elissa let out a breath, closing her eyes a moment. So many meetings. So many conspirators dead with so much land to disperse fairly. "Right. Thank you, Ollie." She rested a hand on Alistair's elbow before stepping away, "Forgive me. Duty calls. I'll see you at supper?"

Alistair managed to bite back a pout. So much for stealing her away for a few hours. He nodded, "Of course, my dear." He watched her disappear from the cavernous hall, then let out a sigh as he dropped into a chair.

Anders handed the skin back to Oghren and hopped to his feet, "I'm a healer, you know. Let's have a look at that leg."

"She mentioned me a little, didn't she?" The man looked from the mage to the dwarf.

"You know how she gets, Alistair," Oghren drew a long swallow from the skin, and then held it out to him. "Bottles it all up and shit. Not like a woman at all in that regard, and for that I am thankful."

Alistair hesitated before he accepted the drink. That might be true. In all the time he knew her, battling the Blight, she rarely mentioned her family. He would go on about Duncan, and she would just nod and listen. Seldom did she open up about the siege on her home, leaving her mother and father behind to die, not knowing if her brother was alive or dead. She had more important things to focus on, she'd say. He worked off his boot and greave, took a swallow of whatever alcohol Oghren had, and made a face once it cleared his mouth. "You're certain this isn't just urine?"

"I was only teasing," Anders said with a smirk. He squinted at the injury on the man's knee. "I know exactly who you are. You're the Templar."

"I was never a Templar," Alistair rubbed his face wearily. "I trained to be one, but I never really-"

"But you wanted to be one," Anders arched a brow as he raised a hand over Alistair's knee. "Couldn't wait to hunt down mages and haul them back to the Circle, I bet."

"No, actually. It wasn't my choice. Why is every-" He huffed, then leveled a look at the mage. "You're looking for an argument, and you aren't going to get one. I don't care if you're an apostate. You're a Grey Warden now, so that means you're my brother."

"Does that mean you're doin' your sister?"

"Shut up, Oghren."

Anders watched Alistair for a long moment as glowing magical energy gathered between his outstretched fingers. "It wasn't your choice," he echoed thoughtfully.

"No. And I would have been a very poor one. My aunt and uncle didn't know what else to do with me, so I got stuck with the Chantry. Becoming a Grey Warden was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Anders grimaced for a moment, but shrugged, refocusing his attention on the wounded man. Healing magic streamed from his fingertips, and he deftly removed the thread stitches while the skin and flesh closed together. He leaned back once finished, wiping his forehead. "There you are. Good as new."

Alistair brought his knee to his chest, bending it gingerly. It was tight, but free from pain. He let out an appreciative chuckle. "Well done, mate. Thanks." He got to his feet, testing the feel of his full weight on his leg. "Very well done. So. Oghren. The Howe."

"You mean Nathaniel? What about him?"

"He's… a _Howe_."

Oghren stared blankly up at Alistair, wiping drips of drink from his moustache.

"Nah, he's all right," Anders drawled, kicking his feet back up before the fire. "Bit of a tight ass, sure. Took him awhile to come around to the fact that his father was a baddie. I guess him and Cousland were chums when they were little."

"They what?"

"And if you want my opinion," the mage tilted his head with a lascivious smile, "I think he wouldn't mind getting chummy with her again."

Alistair's stunned and disgusted expression made the mage break down into giggles, and he quickly scowled. "You're teasing me again."

"Hey, I never had a brother, I thought that was what they do!" Grinning, Anders gave the man a playful salute, "Go on, get washed up, for all our sake."


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner was a loud affair, with all the new recruits, a handful of nobles and guardsmen, all gathered around a large table in the dining hall over a lean meal, supplemented with plenty of wine. For a moment Alistair was reminded of the meals with Duncan and the other Grey Wardens. Was it only a year and a half ago? All those brave men, gathered together, chatting animatedly over food and drink. All of them dead.

He was looking forward to coming to the Vigil. He'd gone so long without a home. Once on the road he'd talked to Elissa about it, wondering what life would be like when it was all over. She didn't have much of an idea what life would be like, either. She'd never had that time with Wardens. She'd gone from the comfortable life of a noble to sleeping in tents on the cold, hard ground. Truth be told, she was more removed from home than he ever was.

Alistair had taken a tour of the Keep that afternoon. He'd asked a servant where the Warden Commander's room was, and peeked inside. It wasn't too presumptuous to assume that he'd be sleeping there as well, was it? Back with the Wardens, they had barracks. Everyone slept in the same room. There was one pair of men, Garrison and Maurice, who were lovers. Sure, they tried to be discreet, but everyone knew and would chuckle to one another when they went missing. By the time they'd resurface, trying to act nonchalant, someone was usually drunk enough to tease them and needle them for details. Garrison would get so red-faced, but Maurice would simply roll his eyes and tease them right back with something ten times as raunchy.

Truth be told, Alistair had no idea what it meant to be a Grey Warden in love. In love with another Grey Warden. It certainly never came up with Duncan. Standing in Elissa's large room with its big bed, plush carpets, and tasteful tapestries, he envisioned them living there forever. This was the new base for Wardens in Ferelden, after all. This was their new life.

Maker, was he ever happy she didn't make him King.

She sat beside him, her hand resting atop his knee under the table while she talked cheerfully with Nathaniel Howe. The Howe sat on the other side of her, and Alistair quietly envisioned that narrow, weasely face on his plate as he sawed through his tough mutton dinner.

Alistair felt like an outsider again. Oghren was here, sure, but he was getting increasingly drunk at his end of the table, and spent more and more time talking to himself.

There was another dwarf, marked as casteless, sitting across from him and watching him with interest as he worked furiously to cut the fat from his meat. Elissa had introduced her as Sigrun.

"I don't understand," Sigrun said, leaning closer so that he could hear her over Oghren's caterwauling. "You were with the Commander before, why didn't you come to Amaranthine with her?"

He could hear Howe talking to Elissa at the same time, "-the fields," he was saying. "Fergus and I would be out there, trying to shoot game, and you'd be chasing after us, scaring them all away."

Elissa laughed, and Alistair dropped his fork and blade in frustration, turning his attention to Sigrun. "Yes. Well. I had business in Denerim. You know. _Royal blood_ and all, had to make my abdication official," he tried to give the Howe a pointed look, but Nathaniel didn't seem to hear. His full attention was on Elissa. Alistair sucked in a breath, looking back at the bewildered Sigrun.

"Wait. You willingly gave up the throne? Why?"

"Because I didn't want it. Who would want to be... saddled with that sort of thing? Anora can have it, she's a far better queen than I'd ever be."

Oghren let out a sudden snort, "I dunno Alistair, you'd be a fine queen," he drawled, then cackled to himself.

"Besides..." Alistair continued through clenched teeth. "A king has to produce an heir. Something next to impossible for a Grey Warden. I don't want there to be another war and fight for the crown after I'm gone just because I couldn't have a child."

"But what about the power?" It was Anders who spoke, his chin in his hand. "You could have done anything you wanted. Named an heir. Freed the mages. Outlawed pants."

"Being King is a lot more than just getting your way all the time." His head shook, "In fact, I'd say it's _not_ getting your way all the time. It's... I don't know, making sure everyone else gets their way, and that they don't end up killing you when they don't get their way enough. I just didn't want it, all right? I wanted to stay a Grey Warden."

"Abdication takes that long?" Sigrun's tattooed face twisted up into a dubious expression.

"It wasn't just abdication, I had a lot to do, help clean up after the battle, rebuild the city. Then I went to Highever to... to arrange a memorial." He poked at his meat with a fork, and caught more of Nathaniel and Elissa's conversation.

"-like a damn puppy," Nathaniel said.

"Maker, I'd almost forgotten!" Elissa said with a laugh. "That's why my father started calling me Pup!"

Nathaniel smiled warmly at that, "I remember that." The smile faded slightly. "He was a good man, your father. We should have Fergus visit us here. It would be just like old times. But I know I'd protest much less to your following us about."

Alistair jabbed his fork into his mutton several times. "Weren't there more of you?" he asked Sigrun, a bit too loudly.

"Oh, you mean Velanna. She... left?"

"Oh good," Anders said, "I'm not the only one."

"What do you mean?" Alistair looked between the two of them.

"Some people think she died in the siege. That a wall fell on her." The dwarf shook her head, "But she wasn't there. And she has the ability to travel with... tree roots, I guess? I don't know, magic is strange."

Anders nodded, "Underground. Saw it myself. She'd magic up some plant roots, and use them to drag herself through the earth itself to get from one place to another. She's not dead."

"So she just left?" Alistair asked. "In the middle of a battle?"

"She was psychotic," Anders said gravely.

"She was only with the Wardens to hunt down her sister." Sigrun shrugged. "We never found her. So... I think she left to hunt her down on her own."

"But... you can't just _leave_ the Grey Wardens!"

Anders scoffed and took a drink of wine.

Sigrun was frowning as well, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Elissa laughed brightly at something Nathaniel said, and Alistair returned to his task of mutilating his mutton. "That's it? I thought there was someone else."

"Justice," Anders said. "He prefers not to join us for meals."

"Why? What's wrong with him?"

"He's dead."

"Not like me," Sigrun chimed in. "Really dead. But walking and talking dead."

Alistair was silent for a long moment, mouth hanging open.

"Sometimes dancing dead," Sigrun added helpfully. "He does this twitchy thing…"

"Siggy, we're eating."

Alistair glanced at Elissa, then back to the mage and dwarf, "You mean… he's an animated corpse?"

Anders sighed a little, pushing his plate away. "Yes. An animated corpse. Used to be a Grey Warden, then he died, and his dead body was possessed by a spirit of Justice. Typical Tuesday." The lean mage took a long swallow of wine, and then shrugged, "Like you said. One doesn't just leave the Grey Wardens."

Alistair sat in silence for a moment, and the conversation continued around him as Oghren tried to get Sigrun to sing some dwarven song with him. To think Alistair believed their last merry band was a motley crew. It wasn't as if they were made Wardens. But now… a Howe, a corpse, a psychotic elf, another apostate mage… After the Landsmeet, Riordan had been considering conscripting Loghain. Loghain! Didn't being a Grey Warden mean anything anymore?

_We aren't judges. Kinslayers, blood mages, traitors, rebels, carta thugs, common bandits; anyone with the skill and mettle to take up the sword against the darkspawn is welcome among us._

Alistair shook Riordan's words from his mind, looking back at Elissa. She was watching him, and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. "You all right? You look tired."

"I am," he answered, voice barely more than a rumble.

She looked at the mangled mutton on his plate a long moment, and she rested her chin on his shoulder. "Did you want me to take you upstairs to bed?" she asked in a low voice.

Alistair felt the muscles between his shoulders relax, and he lowered his head with closed eyes at the sensation of her breath on his neck. She wanted him alone, too. Good. He was starting to feel neglected. His golden eyes found her blue, and he nodded with a small smile.

She smiled back and got to her feet, helping Alistair to his. "You'll excuse me," she said to Nathaniel. "He doesn't feel well. I'm going to show him to his room."

The good cheer vanished from the Howe's face as he looked between the two of them. "Of course."

Elissa and Alistair slipped quickly from the dining hall, down one of the darkened passages, towards the great hall and the stairwell beyond. "You've collected an… interesting bunch," Alistair murmured as he followed her.

"Don't start."

"Not just the Howe."

She gave him a look, "I can drop you off and go back to dinner, if that is what you want."

Alistair blinked at her, "I just... I do eventually want to _talk_ to you, you know."

Elissa paused in the doorway of the hall, and turned to face him. "Alistair…" She slipped her arms about his middle and leaned into him. There was no armor to separate them now, and the soft, familiar warmth of her body against his was both calming and electrifying. "I don't want to talk or think about anything right now. I finally have you back. Let me forget everything else for tonight, please."

He rested his chin on the crown of her head, holding her tight. "Of course, my love," he murmured, and turned his head to press a kiss to her ear.

There was a sudden slam. The front door to the Vigil had shut heavily, and an elderly woman was jogging towards the dining hall.

"Woolsey?" Elissa called out, disentangling herself from Alistair.

He tipped his head back with a weary sigh, "I thought you were going to forget everything else tonight…"

Mistress Woolsey stopped in her tracks, and spun to face the Wardens, looking a bit frazzled, "Commander, it's Paien!"

Elissa shook her head, "It's what?"

Woolsey huffed, "One of the elder Orlesian Grey Wardens! He came from Weisshaupt on behalf of the First Warden!" She paused, and a hint of dread crept into her voice, "He's… very eager to see you, Commander."


	4. Chapter 4

Paien was a man leaning into his fifties, and his hair would show more gray if it hasn't been cropped so close to his head. At some point, earlier in his life, he might have been considered handsome. But the years had been unkind, and his face was lined with age, marked with battle, and scarred by a hard life.

Woolsey had shown the man into the Vigil study, and he stood before the fireplace with a straight back, watching the door and waiting for the two young Wardens to arrive.

When they did, Paien took a step forward, and said in a low voice, "You."

Elissa blinked. Her hand was out to greet her brother Warden, but at his tone, she dropped the outstretched hand and rocked back on her heels, "Me?"

"Both of you," Paien's gaze flicked to Alistair, and he shook his head, turning away. "But mostly you, Cousland."

Elissa looked at Alistair, but he seemed equally mystified. "I don't-"

"When we were told that the Archdemon was slain, and that the both of you lived, well." He turned back to them, folding his hands behind his back. "We thought there must have been some mistake. Riordan was dead, perhaps… perhaps it was he who slew the beast, and you," he motioned to Elissa, "were merely taking credit for his sacrifice."

Elissa closed her mouth. She should have known this was coming. She dropped her gaze to the floor.

"But Riordan's body was found very far from the Archdemon's. He could not have been the one to land the killing blow. Who, I wondered, could have killed it? Not either of you, certainly. Only a Warden can kill an Archdemon. And the act results in his death. So." Paien turned back to them. "I began my investigation."

Alistair held up a hand, "Look, we can-"

"I wondered if you conscripted someone on your own. Let _that_ poor fool die. No, I said, they wouldn't know how. The Joining is not something one can fumble into. Besides, every single witness I asked claimed it was you, Cousland, who drove your sword into the demon's skull." He had crossed the room and was standing before her, expression hard. "And yet here you are. Alive and well. How is this possible?"

She pulled in a deep breath, and met the elder Warden's eye.

But Alistair spoke up first, "It was my idea, Paien, I will take full responsibility-"

"Alistair."

His teeth clenched at her voice, but his full attention was on Paien, "I was the one who... took part in the ritual, not her, if it's anyone's fault-"

"Ritual?"

"Alistair!"

"I am the senior Grey Warden, the responsibility falls to me." He glanced back at her briefly. "I took part in a ritual with a Witch of the Wilds that... that... well, it... changed that."

"Maker help me," Elissa pinched the bridge of her nose, turning on a heel.

"I want a bit more detail, Alistair."

"No, you don't." Elissa crossed the room and dropped into a chair. "And it wasn't his idea."

Alistair had suddenly turned very red, and was no longer meeting Elissa's eye. He was staring at a chip in the brick of the fireplace instead. There was an unspoken agreement between them that the night with Morrigan was never to be mentioned again. "It was ancient magic. Blood magic. She-... I-... well, I honestly didn't do much of anything, I swear, I just-"

"They had sex," Elissa said. She turned to look at Paien. "Morrigan used magic to conceive a child with the taint. The essence of the slain Archdemon that would have killed either of us instead passed into the child." She paused, then hung her head. "She believes the child will possess the soul of the Old God."

Paien had gone silent, looking from one of them to the other with wide eyes. "And... you thought this a good idea?"

Elissa rubbed her face with both hands, "I thought I'd have opportunity to... take care of the problem later." She dropped her hands into her lap, "But then Amaranthine..."

The older man's mouth formed a thin line. Finally, he said, "I understand you were green at the time, Cousland. But at least tell me Duncan informed you of our oath."

Alistair seemed to regain a bit of himself at the mention of his mentor. He scowled at Paien, and skipped ahead to the part he wanted to hear. "In death, sacrifice."

Paien glanced back at Alistair, "A sacrifice that neither of you was willing to make." He shook his head in disbelief. "You realize this means the child might be able to command armies of darkspawn. And Maker's breath, Alistair! Royal blood! How could the two of you be so completely idiotic?"

"But," Alistair frowned, "she said-"

"A witch using blood magic to impregnate herself with a future Archdemon said something to put your mind at ease, did she?" Paien blinked at him. "Oh, I am certain whatever she said to you was the complete and utter truth, do go on and relay to me what the witch said."

Alistair shrank again, dropping his head and stepping backwards.

"Unbelievable. **C'est des conneries!**" Paien punched the back of a chair with his large fist, then pressed his forehead into his hand, eyes closed. After a long, uncomfortable silence, he asked, "Tell me what connection this has with the talking darkspawn."

"None," Elissa answered in a low, flat voice.

"Of course not."

"Talking darkspawn?" Alistair asked.

"I received word that a talking darkspawn arrived at Weisshaupt shortly before my arrival here." He looked back at Elissa, who was crossing to the sideboard. "It popped up out of the ground, unarmed, and asking about our truce. Our... cooperation. We of course killed the thing. But you know something about this, don't you?"

Elissa poured herself a large glass of brandy. "It came on behalf of the Architect."

Paien was silent, and his small, hard eyes widened ever so slightly.

"The Architect is an intelligent darkspawn who asked for an accord. A peace. He wished to end our fighting," she continued.

"And you agreed to this?" Paien asked.

"He does not answer to the call of the Old Gods," Elissa answered, turning to face him. "And he wishes to free other darkspawn from that compulsion. He introduced the idea of ending the Blights altogether. Was I to deny him?"

"Hang on," Alistair spoke up again. "What... No one told me anything about this. Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Elissa shook her head, "I hadn't had the chance to yet."

Paien took the glass of brandy from Elissa, and tipped it back to swallow it in one gulp. He made a face as he handed the empty glass back to the woman.

Alistair watched the elder Warden closely, and his eyes narrowed, "You know something about this Architect as well, don't you?"

Paien wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "I said nothing of the kind."

"Nor are you denying it."

The older man watched Alistair for several long, silent moments as his jaw flexed with unspoken thoughts. He dropped his head and gripped the back of a chair. He finally looked back to Elissa and said, "You are relieved of your command."

Elissa felt as if she'd been punched in the gut, and stepped back with wide eyes. "I beg your pardon?"

"You are no longer Warden Commander. It's very plain to see that you are not suited to lead in any capacity."

She stared at the empty glass in her hand, scowling slowly. "What will happen to my men? The Vigil?"

"Someone else will be assigned here. I brought a few Wardens with me, experienced men who can run things properly. Who can clean up your messes. As for your men, I've yet to meet them. But they may remain."

"And me?"

Paien's spine straightened again, "You, the both of you, are to return to work. Now that my business is finished here, I can return to another, more pressing task. The both of you will assist me." His chin lowered, "It's clear I cannot leave you unsupervised."

Alistair let out the breath he'd been holding and collapsed into a large, comfortable chair. "Maker. I thought…"

"You're still Wardens," Paien said in a hard voice. "You've been without guidance for too long. Or without any at all," he glanced to Elissa. "Finish whatever business you have here. We depart for Nevarra in one week." His gaze lingered over the sagging Alistair a moment longer, then he turned and strode out of the room without another word.

"Maker," Alistair said again, an arm draped over his face. "I never thought… I thought we did everything all right…"

Elissa remained silent, turning back to the sideboard to refill the glass Paien helped himself to. Wordlessly, she placed it in Alistair's hand.

"We ended the Blight!" he said, sitting up again. "And you… how many lives did you save here? That has to count for something!" He paused, "Who is the Architect?"

"As I said," Elissa murmured, pouring a second glass for herself. "An intelligent being who asks for mercy, asks for a truce. Asks to work together to end Blights…"

"Still a darkspawn," Alistair said, frowning at his drink.

"Yes. Still a darkspawn."

"Another issue you thought you could fix later if it became a problem." His lips twisted up a bit, "Like Morrigan."

She had no answer to that. She swallowed her drink quickly, accepting the painful burn down her throat like a penance.

"I know that I can be a real fool sometimes," he went on, still not looking at her. "But… I really thought that everything was going to be all right now. That it was over. And you and me, a couple of Wardens in love, living out our days here in some… fairy tale happily ever after."

Elissa looked at him with his defeated posture and sorrowful expression and took a few steps closer. "Alistair."

"We shouldn't have done it. Paien was right. We were cowards. I didn't want to live without you. Nor did I want to doom you to a life of heartbreak without me." He let out a humorless chuckle and shook his head. "Bit selfish of me, really."

She sat on the arm of his chair, wrapping an arm about him and tilting his head to rest it against her breast. "I was selfish, not you. And there is nothing that can be done about it now."

"We can find and kill Morrigan."

"Not tonight."

"Right," he sighed heavily. "He's going to have someone else do it, apparently. Her and your Architect both."

There was still a chill to his tone. Wavering between anger and resignation. He left her alone to see to his abdication, to Duncan's memorial, only to come back to this chaos. It wasn't fair that he was caught up in the middle of her mess. Elissa slipped her fingers from his hair and got back to her feet. "We have a week," she murmured. "I should begin preparations. Tell everyone what's happened."

He finally looked up at her as she turned to the door, then let out a breath and sagged in his chair again. "Right. I'll…" he trailed off, and then let out another sad little laugh. "Drink myself silly and greet you in the morning hung-over and in a sour mood." He paused a beat, before saying to her in the manner of a man trying to convince himself, "We're still Grey Wardens. There's a light at the end of this tunnel. Go on, then."


	5. Chapter 5

"You were supposed to tell us you're leaving."

He finally found her on the battlements. What was left of the battlements after the darkspawn siege. She sat wrapped up against the cold in a thick woolen cloak. If Nathaniel hadn't caught sight of her soft brown curls flicking in the frigid wind under the hood, he would have thought she was just another archer and moved on in his search.

Elissa's head turned slightly at his voice. "Apparently I don't need to. News travels fast."

Nathaniel Howe walked closer, and then hopped up onto the neighboring merlon of the battlement wall. He sat beside her, and let his legs dangle over the edge. "Not really. Father used to hold all sorts of meetings and arguments in the study. I was six when I discovered that I could hear absolutely everything said if I pressed my ear to the floor of one of the guest room closets."

She looked at him, one brow arching. "You were eavesdropping?"

He lifted a shoulder as he looked back at her. "I've never seen Woolsey so rattled. I had to know what was going on."

"Which guest room?"

"The, ah, one to the east. It used to have red curtains and hideous tapestries. Glad you got rid of those, to be honest."

She turned away again, overlooking the Vigil grounds. There wasn't much to see at this late hour. Everything was bathed in dark blue shadows. The watchman's flame inched through the bailey, past the little houses kept by the Vigil's staff.

What could be seen, and what he was watching, was her soft face. Pale blue eyes were cast down, half hidden behind thick lashes. And that thin scar across her eyebrow, another thicker one under her chin. He really shouldn't be staring at her, taking in every detail of her face. He shouldn't even be here. He shouldn't have sought her out. His list of 'shouldn'ts' was growing by the hour.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Mm." Nathaniel nodded a little, squinting off at the horizon. "You could have stood up for yourself a bit more."

Elissa let out a bitter laugh. "I've done more than a few things I regret. I deserve this punishment."

"I think you've been punished enough." He was silent a moment, then looked at her. "You know that I was in agreement in regards to the Architect. You wanted to stop the cycle of Blights and Old Gods. It's what we all want."

She nodded a little, closing the cloak more tightly about herself. "But what does it mean to be a freed? Or worse, one that is twisted by the Architect's experiments?"

"You believe in giving every loathsome creature a chance," he murmured in a low voice. "Whether or not they deserve it."

Elissa looked at him, and despite the chill he was warmed by the smile she gave him. "You are not a loathsome creature, Nathaniel."

"Yes. Well." He cleared his throat, "There are many who would disagree." He sucked in a breath, "Besides. If the darkspawn no longer answer to the Old Gods, you have nothing to fear from… the babe."

"Ah, you heard that as well. Of course you did."She buried her face in her hands, "Maker's breath."

He felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "So you actually asked him-"

"Nathaniel."

"-to sleep with another woman. A witch."

"To save him!" She threw her hands up and turned to face him. "Andraste help me, it was to save him. Had there been another way, I would have taken it. But it was that or death. What would you have done?"

He met her angry gaze, and his own expression remained calm with a hint of wry amusement. "To save you or him?"

"Not funny."

He dropped his chin, "Had I been in your shoes, I doubt I would have acted any differently."

She sighed, and her breath came out as a vapor that surrounded her pretty face. Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled, hinting at an approaching autumn storm. "You know I have a week to remain here."

"I do." He gathered a few chunks of chipped and broken mortar into his palm, and began chucking them over the edge of the tall wall. "And I should like to join you on your journey to Nevarra."

"That isn't up to me, I don't think."

"Then I shall request it."

"Nathaniel," she was frowning at him again. "You should stay here. You know the land, the people. If Paien had an ounce of sense, he'd put you in charge of the Vigil."

"I'm a child by Warden standards." He shook his head. "If you aren't experienced enough to be a Commander, I'm certainly unworthy."

"This is your home. Vigil's Keep should be yours."

He scowled then, tossing another small stone off into the darkness, "If I cannot earn it, I do not want it." He threw one more and turned to face her, "I wish to remain at your side."

He was wearing too much of his heart on his sleeve with those words, wasn't he? She blinked at him before she looked away quickly. "You'll need to discuss that with Paien," she said.

"I plan to." He dusted his hands on his trousers. "You should get out of this cold. Everyone else has gone to bed. You won't be able to share any of the news with them until morning." He slid from the wall and back to his feet. "Get some rest while you can."

Elissa spun and slipped from the edge of the wall as well. "I doubt that will happen. Thank you, Nathaniel."

He watched her walk past him, hugging the cloak tight around her form against the frigid wind. She soon slipped through a doorway and out of sight.

Nathaniel added another 'shouldn't' to his list.


	6. Chapter 6

Paien had brought two Grey Wardens with him from the Anderfels. Elissa met them after a restless night of sleep. Both of them were elves, a man and a woman, and they sat with Paien in the dining hall over a small breakfast of eggs, fruit, and tea.

The Wardens looked up as Elissa arrived. They had been sitting very close together, murmuring in low voices over a scattering of parchment on the table. Of course, all conversation stopped when she arrived, and Paien rose.

"Cousland," he said. "This is Cruso and Lindise."

Cruso had the sort of face that was used to wearing a sour expression. The intricate designs along his high cheekbones and wide forehead marked him as Dalish, and his lean frame was packed with tight muscle. He studied Elissa with a critical eye, but kept any judgment to himself.

Lindise, meanwhile, rose with a smile. "Good morning," she said cheerfully. This elf was not a Dale. She was lacking not only the face tattoos, but also the quiet, suspicious nature. Her face was open and welcoming, with large brown eyes and short brown hair that curled around pointed ears that were a bit too large, even by elven standards. She was smaller than her fellow elf, and probably weighed less than Sigrun. This Grey Warden could only be a mage.

"Good morning," Elissa replied with a soft, friendly smile of her own.

"I've a hundred questions for you," Lindise said, returning to her seat. She glanced at Paien, then back to the other woman, "They can wait."

"Lindise will be joining us on the road to Nevarra," Paien nodded to her. "Cruso will remain at Vigil's Keep."

Cruso leaned back in his chair, "You don't have many elves here," he observed.

"And I'm glad you'll be here to change that," Elissa replied.

The elf's expression softened a bit at her words. "So I shall."

"We should gather up the Wardens here. Inform them of the change, the plans." Paien leaned over the table. "I should like to take more than just the four of us to Nevarra. The situation we are to investigate there is… delicate."

"I've always had a fondness for delicate things!" Anders jogged down the stairs in his usual chipper morning mood. "Hello, new faces… 'Lissy, toss me a pear there, would you? I've got to run."

Paien looked up at the mage and frowned. "Who is this?"

"Anders," he replied with a smile, hand still lifted in anticipation of his pear.

"You should stay, Anders." Elissa sat on the edge of the table. "Warden meeting."

Anders' smile faded, and his expression took on a hint of panic. He glanced quickly from one unfamiliar person to the other, then back to his commander. "Is… is it the Circle?"

"No," Elissa smiled a little, shaking her head. "Nothing to do with you at all."

"Have a seat," Paien said flatly, pointing at a chair without even looking up from his maps and notes.

Anders' eyes narrowed on Paien. "No," he said. "I've got something to do."

Paien looked back at the mage with a deepening scowl. "What kind of something?"

"Personal something. Don't see how it is any of your business."

Elissa tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling in frustration. Leave it to Anders to make a memorable first impression.

"It is my business." Paien straightened to his full height. "You are a Grey Warden, and I am at this moment your Commander."

"Is that so?" Anders asked casually, glancing to Elissa for confirmation. When she nodded, he shrugged back at Paien, "Still none of your blighted business." He leaned over the table to take a pear for himself.

Paien slammed a hand on the table and pushed the fruit bowl away, "I said sit down."

Anders stepped back, his expression hardening. "Ah, so this is the 'command' part of 'Warden Commander,' is it? No."

Elissa pinched the bridge of her nose, "Anders, please."

The mage snapped his fingers once, pointing at Elissa, "See? That's why she's better at this than you. _She_ uses the magic word." He spun to face her with a bow, "Sorry. I can't. I've got something else to do, as I said."

"I demand to know what is so important that you would defy your commanding officer like this," Paien growled.

"Truthfully?" Anders asked as he backed away to the door. "Nothing. It's suddenly become the principle of the thing. Enjoy your meeting. Cheerio!" With a spin and a flap of his robes, he was gone, sprinting out of the dining hall, through the foyer, towards freedom beyond.

Paien sneered, glancing to the elves before settling his eye on Elissa. "I don't care for that one."

"He… doesn't respond well to authority," Elissa said slowly. "I'll talk to him later."

Lindise smiled faintly at the doorway, "I thought he was funny."

Paien smoothed out his maps, still scowling. "Funny is not an asset one looks for in recruiting Grey Wardens. Can he fight?"

"He can heal," Elissa said, sitting at the table.

The older man nodded once, "Then he is to come with us. We need a healer."

One by one, the other Vigil Wardens trickled into the dining hall in search of breakfast. Oghren sat at the far end of the table, sipping the hair of the dog from his skin and wincing at loud noises. Sigrun piled a plate high with eggs and sat beside a sleepy Alistair. Elissa's tossing and turning all night allowed him very little rest, and the bags under his eyes were as dark and heavy as her own. Nathaniel appeared at some point, passing by the meager breakfast food to lean over Paien's maps with interest.

Anders remained missing, and Justice, as usual, did not make an appearance. Elissa quietly decided to not mention the spirit unless someone asked.

Quick introductions were made, before Paien brought everyone to order. He stood at the head of the table with his hands folded behind his back. "Elissa Cousland has been relieved of her duties as Warden Commander. I am now in charge of Vigil's Keep, and in my absence, the duty shall fall to Cruso."

Sigrun looked to Elissa with wide eyes, "What?"

Oghren, meanwhile, was rattled out of his hangover by the news. "Hang on! What nug shit is this? Why isn't she the commander anymore?"

Paien watched her a moment, before answering, "I have more experience."

"Oh really," Nathaniel drawled, leaning back against a far wall. "How many Archdemons have you slain?"

"The ability to kill things and the ability to lead and make important decisions are very different things," Cruso spat.

"It's done," Elissa said in a low voice. "I have stepped down. Let us move on."

"Done?" Oghren sat upright. "The hell it is! What's he got on you, Commander?"

"I don't understand," Sigrun looked bewildered.

"Oghren, it's done," Elissa said again.

The dwarf huffed and crossed his arms, "So you expect us to follow this pucker licker, is that it?"

"I am just… beside myself with delight at how well this is going. I really am." Alistair rubbed his face with both hands wearily.

"I don't understand," Sigrun said again.

"You are all to follow and respect Commander Paien," Elissa growled. "That is the end of it."

Oghren regarded the older man suspiciously. He scoffed, leaning back in his chair with crossed arms. "Fine. But only because _she_ said so. We'll see how this goes, human."

Paien remained silent a moment, before he returned his attention to his maps. "As I said, Cruso will take over when I am not present. Which will be soon. One of our sisters who should have answered her Calling has fled from Orlais into Nevarra. We are to find her, detain her, and either bring her to the Deep Roads or end her miserable life. If it comes to that." He motioned with a hand, "Cousland and Alistair shall be joining me on this mission, along with Lindise. I should like to take the mage healer along, if he doesn't protest too much."

"I would like to join as well," Nathaniel said.

"Nnno," Alistair spoke up. "Nonono, he's a Howe, these are former Howe lands. He should stay here."

"You will need a scout and bowman," Nathaniel arched a brow at him, and then looked to Paien. "You will find none more capable."

Paien watched Nathaniel a moment in thought, "I shall consider it."

"What about me?" Oghren leapt to his feet.

"You? You will remain here. Sigrun?" Paien looked at the other dwarf.

Sigrun blinked out of deep thoughts, turning to Paien. "Me? Oh. Well. I... think I would better serve the Grey Wardens here. Still a lot to do. Even with all the darkspawn gone..." She trailed off and frowned again, staring at Paien's maps.

"Hang on!" Oghren bellowed. "I've followed Cousland to the Void and back, I am not just going to sit here on my thumbs while she's off adventuring!"

"Felsi would worry," Elissa said in a low, quick voice.

The name made the dwarf grow suddenly silent, and he dropped back into his chair with a sullen expression. "I see how it is."

Paien glanced about the table, "Are we quite finished?" He waited a beat, then nodded. "As I was trying to say. A Grey Warden has fled rather than answer her Calling. Her mind is slipping, and we fear she may be dangerous. Her name is Sabinia."

"That's a Tevinter name," Nathaniel said thoughtfully. "Is she a mage?"

"She is," Paien answered with a nod.

"Wouldn't the Templars be better suited to this task?"

"No," the older man shook his head. "She is a Warden first, and our responsibility. Besides, Alistair has Templar training, I am certain his knowledge will be invaluable."

Alistair gave Nathaniel a very brief, very smug little smile. He tilted his head at Paien with a curious expression, "A party this large to find and bring down one mage?"

Paien met Alistair's eye, "We fear she may be very dangerous."

Alistair winced and leaned back, "Blood magic?"

"Yes."

There were collective groans around the table, while Oghren let out a snort, "Have fun with that."

"Sabinia was last spotted two days ago in Cumberland, to the south, and may be moving north into Tevinter. We will learn more when we arrive and meet with our Nevarran contacts. We have one week to prepare for the journey, and to transition the Vigil to Cruso's command. But the sooner we can depart the better." Paien studied the faces around the table. "So let us begin immediately."


	7. Chapter 7

It was getting close to dinnertime when Anders finally resurfaced.

"So what did I miss?"

Elissa looked up at the voice to see Anders standing in the doorway with a playful smile and his hands behind his back. She shook her head and returned her attention to the papers Varel had given her. Not only did the Wardens and Vigil staff need to learn of her departure, but so too did the nobles of Amaranthine. She retreated to the study after taking care to lock the upstairs guest room closet and pocket the key. "I'm not happy with you right now."

"See, I was expecting that." He walked closer, bringing his hands around to reveal a rolly, fuzzy tabby. Anders deposited the cat on the desk under Elissa's nose. "No one can stay angry when Sir Pounce-a-lot is present."

The cat rolled onto his side, looking disinterestedly up at her. Elissa sighed heavily, picking the cat up and plopping it on the floor. "Anders. I mean it."

The mage's smile faded slowly. He scooped up the cat and dropped into a chair opposite the desk. "Right. So we have to be serious then. Go ahead."

"I am no longer your commander."

"Yeah, I got that. Mr. Big Burly Buffoon is. Why?"

"Because that is what the Wardens decided."

Anders frowned, scratching the cat under his chin. "I don't like him."

"You don't have to. Just… not piss him off too much."

"You know I can't promise that!"

Elissa sagged in her chair, "Can you at least try? To make this easier on me?"

The corner of the mage's mouth curled in a grimace. "Fine."

"We're going to be leaving the Vigil."

"We who?"

"You, me, Alistair, Paien, his mage, maybe Nathaniel."

"Why?"

"Again, if your pride had allowed you to actually stay for the meeting…"

Anders rolled his eyes, "Right, right. Why?"

"There is a Grey Warden we need to hunt down. A blood mage. She should have answered her Calling and gone into the Deep Roads, but she's refused and fled…" Elissa paused. From the dark expression on Anders' face, she instantly knew she should have phrased that better.

"We're hunting down a _mage_," Anders said with more venom in his voice than Elissa would have thought possible from him.

"It's not like that."

"That is exactly what you said!" Anders got to his feet, letting Sir Pounce-a-lot leap from his lap to the floor. "We're hunting down a runaway mage!"

"A blood mage who is being driven insane by the Taint! She's dangerous!"

"Suppose I ran away because I didn't want to be a Warden anymore. Would you hunt me down as well? Force me into the Deep Roads?"

"This has nothing to do with you."

"Maker!" Anders shook his head, pacing to the other end of the room. "This-… you know, I've been trying to be chipper and positive, I really have, but lately?"

Elissa blinked in surprise, leaning back in her chair. "What?"

Anders took in a breath, his hands balling into fists. He looked back at Elissa and asked, "What are we doing?"

She paused, confused. "We're… going to Nevarra-"

"Not that! The Wardens! What's the point? The Blight is over, the darkspawn are gone. We're going to be wasting our time doing Templar work? In _Nevarra_?"

"Anders-"

"No no, I never get to rant." He placed his hands on his hips. "Without a Blight on, the Wardens are pointless. Simple as that. Justice says-…" He stopped, then shook his head, "We should stay here and help the people of Ferelden. Running after lost mages and straggler darkspawn… there are more important things."

Elissa arched a brow, "Like?"

Anders rocked from foot to foot, grimacing. "You know, when you defeated the Archdemon, Queen Anora granted you a boon. You could have asked for anything at all. Anything! And what did you ask for?"

"Land for the Wardens."

"Land for the Wardens! The bloody Blight is over! And you, and-and Alistair, flaming Void. He could have been a king, made some real change for the better, but he wants to be a Warden when the blinking Blight is over. I can't wrap my head around that, I really can't."

Elissa rose slowly, "I'm sorry, did I inconvenience you by saving you from the Circle and conscripting you?"

He scoffed, "Trading one prison for another, huzzah. Had I known. Didn't mind with you running things, but this new arsehole? No. No."

She threw her hands up in the air, "Where is this coming from?"

Anders glanced at her, and then away, "I've just… been thinking about it. A lot."

Elissa's eyes narrowed, "You seem to be dancing around what you really want to say."

He was silent, shoulders sagging. "You could have freed the mages," he said at last, looking back at her. "Your boon, you could have set all the mages in the Circle free."

"You really think the Chantry would have allowed that?"

Anders motioned with a hand, "Then… then we could be conscripting more of them into the Wardens right now. Get them out of the Circle. Paien will need to have an unfortunate accident first, of course."

"The Wardens are not your personal political army, Anders." She shook her head, "Besides, you saw what happened when we tried to put those tainted soldiers through the Joining."

His arm fell back to his side. "It's going to be exactly like the Circle again under that man, I know it. I'm not going anywhere with him."

"I don't think it was a request."

"Exactly. And who will take care of Justice?" He turned to look back at her. "He is literally falling apart. He's in no state to travel. If I leave him here, there isn't going to be much left when I get back."

Elissa closed her eyes and rubbed her throbbing temples. "Maybe… that is for the best."

Anders rocked back in alarm, "What?"

"He is a spirit in a corpse. He has no place on this side of the Fade, and his situation is far from ideal. There is a point at which we should just… let him go."

"He's our friend!"

"He's rotting before our eyes." Elissa leveled a look at him. "There is a point at which we need to accept what is inevitable." Her head shook, "Now, I haven't told Paien about Justice, but he will find out. And he will say the same thing."

Anders' eyes darkened as he watched Elissa. "You're supposed to be better than him."

"You don't even know him."

"I know his type." The mage scowled. "And I'm not going."

"I need you. I've talked Oghren into staying by telling him I trust him to keep an eye on the place while I'm gone, but I need you along with me."

"You need me or you need a healer?"

Elissa let out a long groan, burying her face in her hands. "Why is everyone making this so damn difficult? Even you?"

Anders fell silent, dropping his gaze to the floor. "Because," he said slowly. "Not all of us are here to follow some greater Warden cause. Some of us are here because of you. Because we trust you. Because we want to follow you." His chin lifted a bit to meet her gaze. "Any sane woman would have handed my head over to the Templars on a silver platter. But you didn't. You tried to save me the only way you could. Sure, I might have died in the Joining. I knew that. But I would have died a free man." He gave her a soft, crooked smile, "And you gave me that chance."

"Then come with me," she said helplessly.

Anders' head shook a little, "I can't. I spent my whole life running away and caring only about myself. I always said if the other mages wanted to get out as bad as me, they would. But..." He sucked in a deep breath, "I think it's time... I stood up for something, you know?"

Elissa watched the mage a long moment in silence. She thought back on the idea that Nathaniel had changed since they met at Vigil's Keep all those months ago. But he wasn't the only one. The entire conversation felt as if it was with a completely different person. Being liberated from the Circle meant that his own freedom wasn't the only thing on his mind. He was able to actually stop, take a breath, and form new ideas. No doubt Justice had a role to play as well. "This is where you make your stand?"

"You bet your sweet ass it is."

She couldn't help but smile faintly. "Fine." She crossed to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Can I ask you to talk to Paien? Make some attempt to be friendly?"

Anders scooped up Sir Pounce-a-lot, untying part of his robes to tuck the cat inside. "How do you think he'd react to flirting?"

"Poorly. Is he really your type?"

Anders tossed her a familiar, playful grin. "I just think he needs to loosen up a bit. Relieve some stress. I'll take one for the team if we get a happier, more relaxed Templar-wannabe."

Elissa chuckled at him. "You're a generous man."

"I am, aren't I?" He placed a hand over his heart and gazed heavenward, as if he were one of the saints as depicted on the Chantry walls. He gave her a quick wink and stepped away, "In the meantime, I'll brew up some poultices for your trip."

"Thank you, Anders."

"And don't you worry about the Vigil, it will probably still be standing when you get back. Might be filled with beautiful, half naked women, too. Oghren and I are still working out the details." He gave her a grandiose bow, and slipped from the room.


	8. Chapter 8

It was the scent of incense that caught Alistair's attention. Some burning resin below the Vigil crept up the stairwell. The smell grew stronger the deeper into the keep he went.

Alistair had been seeking out the armory. He was as surprised as anyone to see Master Wade up in the courtyard, smelting away. His armor was being cleaned by and eager young page named Gwen, and it would be sent off to Wade for repair before his party left for Nevarra. Repairing his mail, however, would be time consuming. There was plenty more mail, Gwen informed him, down in the armory.

The armory that he was having trouble finding long before he was distracted by that frankincense.

Where was he now, anyhow? Storage? A crypt or a catacomb? He paused in a hallway when he was finally able to pick up muffled voices.

"…asked me. Nothing more than a Templar." That was Anders.

"Do you think he is being unfair?" asked another, deeper yet creaking voice.

"Unjust, you mean? When it comes to this mage? Absolutely. Hold still."

"I meant with the Warden Commander."

"Her demotion? I'm a bit biased there. She doesn't seem to want to talk about the specifics. If I had to guess, I'd say it was all over the Architect."

"The Architect should have been slain. Monstrous abomination. Had I been there-"

"You weren't. I said hold still."

"Lady Cousland," the deep voice said, "wishes you to join her on this journey?"

Anders sighed heavily and was silent for awhile longer. "I'm not going. I refused. Fat lot of good that did. Hunting down a crazy blood mage."

"Travelling so far when there is injustice here. A waste."

"Fighting the darkspawn… everything the Wardens stand for is a damn waste now. There, is that better?"

The other man was silent. Alistair crept down the hall towards the conversation, pressing his ear to a door. "Not really," the other man said at last.

There was a clang that made Alistair jump, someone throwing something metal to the ground. "Maker, I don't know what other options we have here," Anders said, voice filled with frustration. "There's only so much I can do in the way of… preservation."

Alistair blinked. The elusive Justice. That's who he was talking to. The living corpse. Alistair had been at the Vigil for three days now, and never saw him. Now he knew why. He was hiding down here. Eech, the incense. It was to cover up the smell of his rot, wasn't it?

"Hang on, let me-" Anders' voice was right outside the door now, and Alistair barely had time to jump back before it swung open. The mage wore an initial expression of surprise that changed quickly into suspicion. "Ah."

"I was… looking for the armory?" Alistair offered. "Sorry, I didn't mean to… stand out here and listen in on every word. Honest." He looked past Anders to the man sitting on a collection of boxes on the other side of the smoky room.

Justice was a corpse, simply put. He sat on the far side of the room, pulling a simple linen shirt on over his head. His skin was shriveled and sagging off his bones. His eyes were sunken and milky, and his nose and mouth were stained with something black that had been recently wiped away. A rupture in the man's throat had been stitched closed again. Alistair managed to hold in a gurgle of disgust, but from the dead man's wry smile, he knew he wore his horror on his face. "You're Alistair," it said.

He felt a bit dizzy from the sight, and the mix of strong aromas. He'd seen dead bodies before, of course, in various stages of decay. But this one was watching and smiling at him. And it seemed strangely familiar. He cleared his throat, "Yeah. Yes. And you… you're Justice."

"I am," said Justice. He nodded to Anders, who let out a heavy sigh, then stepped aside to let Alistair in. "Well met. Did you know this body before?"

Alistair paused, "They said he was-... that is, you _were-…_ or _are_, maybe? How does that work? Anyhow, they said that this body belonged to a Grey Warden."

"Yes. His name was Kristoff."

"Kristoff?" Alistair took a step back and studied the corpse more closely. "Maker. Yes. Casually. I mean." He coughed again at the smell. "We met once."

"What was he like?" Justice's brows quirked and he leaned forward slightly.

"Kristoff?" Alistair paused, thinking back. Kristoff appeared at the Grey Wardens barracks, back when everyone was preparing to head to Ostagar. Duncan had talked to him, and Alistair was too far away to catch any of the conversation. But by the next morning, both Duncan and Kristoff were gone, and the Wardens began the march south. When Duncan rejoined the Wardens several days later with Elissa Cousland, Kristoff was not with him. "He… was quiet. Stoic. I don't think I heard more than three words out of him. But, you know… he'd… this is so bizarre. He'd never say much, but he always struck me as the man who was listening. Paying more attention than anyone else in the room." His head shook, "Do you remember... being him?"

"Little glimpses of a life at the edge of my vision," the corpse murmured. "Like flickering light from a candle cast upon a wall."

"How did he die?"

"Felled by darkspawn." Anders plucked another block of scented resin from a leather bag on the table, and flung it into a small metal burner. "You won't get used to the smell, believe me. Stand a bit closer to this." He closed the top again, and then crossed his arms. "We were just working on ways to slow the decay. Been reading up on the Nevarrans and their tombs, how they preserve dead bodies. We're a few months too late to do much in that regard."

Justice leaned back again, "There are always other ways."

Alistair stepped back, closer to the burner. "So… you're a dead body with a spirit in it. Has that ever happened?"

"Not that we've been able to find," Anders murmured. "Different from using magic to reanimate corpses, of course."

"I had a friend," Alistair said, looking to Anders, "who had a spirit inside her. At least, she thought she did. And she was very much alive."

Justice's eyes opened, focusing on the warrior. "Go on."

"Well, I suppose it was the opposite of an abomination. Wynne told me she was near death when a spirit of Faith came to her and saved her. And it continued to live on inside her. Always made me a bit squeamish, truth be told."

"Wynne?" Anders straightened. "We met her. At the Chantry in Amaranthine. She… seemed normal."

"Don't let that fool you, she's a wily old woman," Alistair grinned, then shrugged. "I don't know. All you ever hear about is demons, not spirits, possessing mages and all the harm they can cause. To have a spirit with her, helping her, augmenting her power. I guess I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?"

"It never did?" Anders asked.

"Hasn't yet, to my knowledge." He looked back at Justice, then at Anders, "She's a healer as well."

"Ah, well then, she is definitely not normal," Anders said with a crooked grin, gathering a collection of medical supplies from atop another box. A scalpel, needle and thread, a pair of tweezers, all were slid into a leather pouch.

"You know, when I first met you, I would have never pegged you for the healing type," Alistair said with a slight smile as he crossed his arms and studied the man.

"No?"

"No. They've always struck me as… sweet. Kind and motherly. Which Wynn sort of is, to an extent." He scratched his chin in thought. "Why did you choose the healing magics?"

Anders paused in putting his things away. He rolled up the leather pouch and stuffed it into his pocket. "Suppose healing chose me."

"His mother," Justice murmured, his cataract eyes on the mage.

"Right," Anders sighed. "She was a sickly sort. Always used to pray to the Maker for good health, and I of course got into the habit of praying for her health as well." He forced a smile onto his face, adopting a light, carefree tone, "But anyhow, one day, I was about seven, and there were these bigger boys picking on this kitten. Throwing rocks at it, beating it with a stick. The poor thing escaped and I ran after it. Pulled her out from under a cart and started to soothe her, stroking her fur." He looked down at his hands, petting an imaginary cat. "She was so small. Trembling in my hands. So badly hurt. And as I was stroking her, her wounds just… went away. As if I wiped them off her."

"You didn't know it was magic at the time," Justice said in his low, soft voice.

"How could I? I was just a kid, I thought it was the Maker. So I tuck this kitten under my arm, go running home to my mum, tell her what happened, and I tell her I can do the same for her. My mum." Anders chuckled humorlessly and shook his head. "Well, she knew exactly what that meant. She knew that I would eventually be found out and be taken away. So she wasted no time in telling the neighborhood, so that I could heal as many people as I could before the Templars came and took me away."

"She didn't hide you?" Alistair asked.

"What would be the point of that?" Anders met the man's gaze. "They'd find me. They always find you. And hiding it wouldn't help anyone. So she has me heal everyone that asks for healing, delaying herself. Putting everyone else first. Always had an excuse as to why she didn't need it. At the end of the day, I'd always say, 'can I heal you now?' And she'd say 'no, you've got to rest up for tomorrow.'" He lifted a shoulder. "Two weeks of this before the Templars got me. Pulled me out of my mother's arms to drag me off to the Circle."

"Maker."

"To do that to an innocent child," Justice growled. "Pray that I am never introduced to a Templar. Justice demands they pay for what they've done to mages."

Anders slid Justice a look, and then gave Alistair a crooked smile. "Good thing you never took your vows, eh? This would have been a lot more awkward."

"What happened to your mother?"

"I don't know. Dead by now, I'm sure." The mage let out a long exhale. "When I'm feeling especially depressed, I sometimes think she put off her healing because she knew I'd be gone forever. She didn't want to carry on without her only son." His lips twisted up in a grimace, and he shrugged again, turning his attention to stoking the coals in the bottom chamber of the incense burner.

There was an uncomfortable silence under the heavy weight of the incense. Justice spoke at last, lifting his rotten head, "The armory is a floor above this one."

"Right," Alistair said, straightening. "Right, that's where I was going. I didn't mean to interrupt. Justice, so nice to finally meet you. Carry on, gentlemen." He retreated back into the hallway and sucked in deep breaths of cleaner air.

Alistair let out a "bleaugh," shaking himself a bit. Gross. He really was a corpse. A polite corpse. How much longer could that thing last? And how did Paien not find out about it yet? He rubbed at his nose to get the smell out of his nostrils, and took to the stairwell again, headed up.

Truthfully, Alistair wasn't sure if he liked Paien. He'd asked Elissa that morning for her impression of the new Commander, and she simply pursed her lips and shook her head.

"Oh, come on!" he had said to her. "Since when do I have to twist your arm to get your opinion?"

She sucked in a breath and turned to look at him, plaiting her long brown curls into a braid over her soft, bare shoulder. "I'm trying very hard to see a likeable side of him, and he's making it very difficult."

Had she been distant lately, or was that his imagination? With the business of taking care of the Vigil and the nobles and everything else, he'd scarcely gotten any alone time with Elissa at all. Sure, he was a bit sore at her over recruiting a Howe and a corpse, and for siding with a darkspawn, but he never stayed terribly sore for long.

Alistair still suspected Paien of knowing far more about the Architect than he let on. And if that was the case, he had no problem keeping mum about Justice.


	9. Chapter 9

In no time at all, the Vigil was abuzz with a new activity. What had previously been rebuilding and recovering was now nobles making appearances again to meet and judge their new, symbolic Arl. Paien, for his part, managed to put on some semblance of charm, and Elissa made a show of support for him before the doubting aristocracy.

She was very good at adapting, Nathaniel couldn't help but notice.

She'd met with Lady Ebel, who was still the shrill harpy he'd remembered from his youth. The lady had been very vocal in her displeasure at leaving the arling in the hands of an elf for the next few months. Nathaniel had to give Cruso credit. He didn't leap up and tear the woman's throat out, much as it looked like he desperately wanted to.

Elissa had been calm, and feigned empathy as she put each and every one of Lady Ebel's irrational fears to rest. No, the elf wouldn't steal all the silver in the Keep. No, he was not interested in stealing away your daughter. No, the elf wouldn't enslave all humans as part of some petty revenge. No, the elf, who had a name, was not secretly building an army of alienage elves to rise up and overtake the city.

When Lady Ebel had finally left, Elissa excused herself and disappeared from the hall. Nathaniel fought the temptation to follow. Instead, he let out a long, slow breath and closed his eyes. Trying very hard not to imagine that she ran off to be with that royal bastard man-child who didn't have two thoughts to rub together in his massive meat head.

He grimaced at himself and shook his head to clear himself of the thoughts. _Jealousy doesn't suit you, Nathaniel. Yes, she could do so much better. But she has clearly made her choice._

_ Not that she isn't worth fighting for._

"Nathaniel?"

The voice nearly made him flinch. He opened his eyes and looked for the source. Just behind him stood Sigrun.

"Sorry," she gave him a sheepish smile. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you. Don't know how to not sneak."

"No," he said with an exhale, "it's fine. Just lost in thought."

She nodded a little, looking towards the other end of the great hall. Paien still stood there, speaking in low tones with Cruso and not paying either of them the slightest amount of attention. "You're… leaving soon, right?"

He dipped his head to her, "The ship for Cumberland leaves day after tomorrow. Why?"

At the far end of the room, Anders appeared from a doorway, paused at the sight of Paien, and stepped back to make a quick retreat. Too late. The elder Grey Warden spotted him and flagged him down.

"I just… I don't know what to do. I mean, I know what I _want_ to do, I just don't know the best way to go about it," Sigrun said, shifting from foot to foot while Nathaniel's eyes remained on the elder Warden and mage.

"You are still dead set against joining us," Paien said to Anders.

Anders sighed, rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms. "Yes."

"You are leaving us without a healer." Paien leveled a look at him, voice dropping. "We are facing down a blood mage, someone who may rip open wounds in us with a thought. And you are staying behind on principle. You don't see that as selfish?"

"Blood magic doesn't work that way. I made you plenty of healing poultices. You should be all right."

"You do not know Sabinia," Paien said gravely.

"Nathaniel?"

Nathaniel blinked and looked back down at Sigrun. "Sorry. You were saying?"

The dwarf's lips made a thin line. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Better than you know."

She stared up at him, picking at the skin on her calloused knuckles, and then said slowly, "I won't be here when you get back."

He was hardly surprised. The dwarf had been distant for some time now, ever since the final defeat of the darkspawn. "You're going back to the Deep Roads."

"I didn't want to make a big deal out of it," she said quickly. "But… I don't want anyone to worry when I'm gone, either."

"I understand."

She gave him a little smile, "My vows… I died to honor the Legion, I have to go back."

"You joined the Wardens to slay darkspawn, and now…" He shrugged a little, "now we are apparently done. We have peace on the surface, and we wait and prepare for the next Blight while your people carry on the fight."

"By the Paragons, yes, that's it exactly!" Sigrun sighed, "I knew you would understand. I thought that I might leave a note, but. My handwriting leaves much to be desired…"

Nathaniel wondered if the dwarf even knew how to read or write. "I will tell everyone what's happened when you're gone."

"Can I bring my cat?" he heard Anders ask Paien.

"Your what?"

"My cat. Sir Pounce-a-lot."

Paien stared at Anders a long moment, unable to determine if the man was being serious or not. "No. You may not bring your cat."

"Ah, see..." Anders shook his head, "if you really wanted me to come, you would have said I could bring my cat."

Nathaniel could hear Paien's teeth gritting even from across the large room. "You are being ridiculous. There are lives in the balance. Should your dear friends die on this mission, it will be on your head."

Anders studied Paien quietly a few moments, "Wouldn't it be on yours, fearless leader?"

"And part of my leadership is bringing you along," Paien snapped, stepping closer to the man. Anders simply narrowed his eyes and stood his ground. "I will not lose good men because you decided that you are better than the Wardens. Now," Paien went on, "you are coming with us to Nevarra. No more selfish games. That is an order, do you understand me?"

The lean mage remained poker-faced, watching the larger Warden closely. "I understand," he said at last, voice very low.

"Get rid of your stupid cat, pack your things, and be ready to board that ship in forty eight hours." Paien stepped back again, expression hard even with his triumph.

Anders' shoulders sagged slightly, and his gaze dropped to focus on the fireplace. "Yes, sir," he said in a soft voice.

Even Sigrun had gone quiet now, staring over at the two men in silent shock.

Paien nodded once, motioned to Cruso, and the two of them briskly left the great hall. Anders remained where he stood, head down.

"Anders?" Nathaniel called out.

The mage blinked, lifting his head to look over at the pair of them. He sucked in a deep breath, standing tall once more, and murmured, "Well then. That's decided." He strode past the both of them and out the large doors that led to the courtyard.

Sigrun's mouth pursed. "I suppose that means he's going with you then?"

"Apparently," Nathaniel said, puzzled. Anders could be impulsive and resistant to reason. It appeared that Paien had finally worn him down. Honestly, he was thankful. Having a mage well versed in healing magic was the only proper way to charge into an unknown situation. He'd gotten a bit spoiled by Anders' presence. He was willing to gamble a bit more in combat, and with constant healing spells, those risks usually paid off.

"Should we... go after him?"

Nathaniel frowned, lifting his chin a bit, "He's probably run off to complain to Justice." He arched a brow at the dwarf, "and I have no desire to go down there, do you?"

She shook her head slowly. "Is... is it bad that I'm kind of eager to get away from all this weirdness and drama?"

"No," Nathaniel answered with a little smile. "But do take care. We'll worry about you, whether or not we know where you are and what you're doing."

Sigrun smiled back at him, then chuckled. "No one ever taught me how to be careful," she replied in a light voice. "And you. You continue to do the Wardens proud, all right?"

"I'll try my best."


	10. Chapter 10

The young page who had been assigned to Alistair struggled down the cobblestone path with his heavy pack. He chuckled and shook his head, calling out to her from outside the gate, "I really wish you'd let me carry that, Gwennie."

The girl gave him a flushed, breathless grin, "No sir… only way... t'build up muscle, sir." Gwen finally closed the gap and let the heavy bag fall from her back.

Alistair scooped it up easily and slung it over his shoulder. "You behave while I'm gone. Remember what I told you about the boys."

"Aim for their jollies if they get fresh, sir."

"That's my girl."

Paien was in an agitated state and he paced back and forth across the courtyard. He alternated between barking out orders to pages and servants and digging into his various bags as he looked for something he was having no success in finding. They had only two hours to get to Amaranthine and board the ship for Cumberland. Lindise trailed after him and tried to keep him calm with soothing words.

"We need to leave," Nathaniel murmured, watching Paien over his shoulder as he walked towards Alistair. "What's he going on about?"

"Take your pick."

"Where's Elissa?"

Alistair slid the Howe a look. "She's coming."

"Where is that damn healer?" Paien shouted as he spun on a heel. "I swear to the Maker, if we miss this ship…" He turned back to Lindise and shoved an empty bag into her hands, "I still can't find them. Go. Up to my room, see if I left them somewhere up there."

"What can't he find?" Elissa jogged down the stairs from the Keep towards the men. "He was up all night making preparations. I heard him going up and down the hall every few minutes, I swear."

Lindise sprinted back into the Keep, while Paien turned to face the three of them, "Where's Anders?"

Elissa shook her head, "I haven't seen him all morning. What else are we missing?"

"My maps." Paien looked momentarily lost and confused, patting the bag at his hip again. He shook the expression away and settled back to the more comfortable and familiar state of irritation. "Has _anyone_ seen Anders?"

"He might be… down below the armory," Nathaniel said slowly as he motioned a page closer.

Alistair nodded a little. Paien had been so preoccupied by the journey that Justice had apparently gone completely unnoticed.

"Of course. Ollie," Elissa said to the page, "run and see if you can find Anders down in the catacombs."

Ollie made a face, nodded, and sprinted off to the door that led to the dark, dank rooms below the Vigil.

"How could you have misplaced your maps?" Alistair asked. "Don't we need those?"

"They are Warden maps," Paien answered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Outlining our strongholds, secret passages into the Deep Roads. Places that Sabinia may hide."

Elissa frowned, looking up at the Vigil and crossing her arms. "Do you think someone took them?"

"I don't like the idea that I misplaced them," Paien grimaced.

"Can we carry on without them?" she asked.

"If we must, yes. I know them well."

Nathaniel glanced to the east and checked the position of the sun. "We need to get on the road."

Paien groaned, "_Le nichon de __Andraste_." He sucked in a deep breath and called out, "Lindise!"

Several moments later the elf reappeared empty handed. "I tore your room apart, I couldn't find anything." She added with some hesitation, "Sorry about the mess."

"Get word to Cruso," Paien growled. "Have him search the Vigil top to bottom until they are found. We'll need to carry on without, but I don't want them falling into the wrong hands."

"Yes, Commander."

"Lady Cousland!" Ollie had reappeared, out of breath and having trouble forming words. He rested one hand on his knee and another at a stitch in his side. "Anders… he isn't down there… an' neither is Justice."

"What?" Paien blinked at the page, and then stared at Elissa.

She closed her eyes, and Alistair could see the muscles in her jaw flexing. "He's gone."

Nathaniel threw his pack to the ground in a fury, "He's taken the maps and run off!"

Alistair's eyes grew wide, "Would he do that?"

"We can't exactly pursue him!" Nathaniel motioned off into the distance. "Not when he has the maps and we have a ship to catch. Bastard!"

Paien had grown very quiet and stared at a stone on the road. Finally, he said, "Nathaniel, pick up your things. As you said, we need to leave."

"But," Alistair began, watching Paien walk past him towards the main road. "What about Anders?" He wasn't surprised that Nathaniel immediately leapt to the conclusion that the mage had betrayed them. He had a little trouble accepting the idea himself. Sure, Anders had undoubtedly run off, but stolen Warden maps as well? He couldn't picture it.

"He's made his choice. In a very dramatic fashion. Nothing we can do about it now." The man looked over his shoulder at them. "We need to move. We cannot miss that ship, Sabinia has enough of a lead on us already."

Nathaniel snatched up his pack. "Someone ought to call the Templars to hunt him down."

Elissa gawked at him, "Nathaniel!"

"He's run off and betrayed us!" he spun back to her. "He knew we needed him! Dragging his traitorous ass back to the Circle would be more than a fitting punishment!"

"Walk and argue!" Paien hollered back at them.

Elissa shot him a dark look and fell into step behind Paien.

Alistair jogged a few steps to catch up with her. "He... has a point." That was more difficult to say than he thought. The Howe had a point that was not on the top of his head.

"Don't you start, too."

"He's an apostate now," Alistair reminded her. "If he's left the Wardens, we can't protect him. I don't think he's thought this through very well."

"Oh, he's thought this through very well," Nathaniel growled.

"I'm not saying I want him to fall into Templar hands," Alistair added, glancing back at Nathaniel. "I rather like Anders. And we don't know for certain that he took the maps, do we?"

"Don't be a fool," Nathaniel shot back. "He's taken them for hiding places. To know where the Wardens are likely to be so that we can be avoided. And for his betrayal to only be discovered _now_, when we can do nothing about it…"

Lindise hung back, exchanging words with one of the pages. When finished, she ran to catch up, sprinting past them to walk beside Paien. "Cruso will take care of it," she told him.

"What did you say to him?" Elissa took long strides to walk on the other side of Paien. "To convince him to join us?"

"I took the military approach and gave him an order," Paien replied with a grimace. "Clearly... I should have listened to you." He glanced at her. "We are without a healer and without any maps. We need to get to Cumberland, meet my contacts, and see if we can do something about our situation. At current, our largest disadvantage is the massive lead Sabinia has on us. That is what we shall focus on. Is that understood, men?" He glanced over his shoulder at Nathaniel and Alistair. "Not Templars, not revenge, not possessed corpses," the last was aimed back at Elissa, "but the mission at hand."

Nathaniel sneered, but answered, "Yes, of course."

Alistair stared at the Warden Commander in disbelief. Paien knew about Justice after all. Why didn't he mention the spirit earlier? "Yes. Sir," he finally said.

The long march to the docks of Amaranthine was mostly a quiet one. As the sun inched higher, the early frost faded away, and the landscape was golden in the morning light. Freshly plowed fields made the rolling hills look naked, and the path was scattered with fallen leaves, making the trees look equally bare. Everything was exposed and waiting for the oncoming winter, while the party trudged ahead in thick cloaks and heavy armor.

The city itself was just beginning to stir when they arrived and hurried through the empty streets. Lindise paused at a food stall as it was opening to buy a basket of apples and a fistful of herbs. Jogging to catch up again, she handed an apple to Paien, resting a hand on his back, murmuring, "We're nearly there."

"We're nowhere near there," came his reply, but he accepted the apple with a nod of thanks.

Lindise grimaced, but turned to offer the rest of them breakfast as well.

"You're a mage, aren't you, Lindise?" Alistair asked. He'd made a few attempts at conversation on the road, but no one seemed to be in the mood to chat. Or for a sing-a-long.

The elf gave him a smile, "Yes, I am. From the Circle in the Anderfels. Before that, I grew up in an Alienage."

"So what is your specialty? Can you turn people into toads?"

The elf laughed, "That I cannot do. No, I am an elemental mage. Fire, water and ice, air, earth and stone. I am able to manipulate them. Nothing terribly impressive or fancy-"

"Nonsense. You control the elements better than any mage I have ever known," Paien glanced back at her. "Tell him about your golems."

"Oo, tell me about your golems."

Lindise's smile grew more shy, and she shifted the basket of apples in her arms, suddenly self conscious. "They aren't real golems, not like the dwarven ones. I can just build a figure out of stone or ice and make them traipse about and punch people in the face."

Alistair grinned broadly at her as he twisted the stem off him apple, "That is both impressive and fancy. I look forward to seeing it in action."

The Amaranthine docks were far busier than the city itself. They were greeted by the smell of freshly caught fish headed to market, and by the sounds of seabirds and sailors shouting orders to one another. Their ship waited for them, a lean schooner under the banner _The Bearded Lady_. Twin masts stretched towards the heavens, and crisp white sails were open and ready to catch the wind to carry them to Nevarra.


	11. Chapter 11

A thud, a hissing breath, and then a muttered curse. Elissa opened one eye. Dark as it was, she couldn't see much more than she could when it was closed.

The ship wouldn't reach Cumberland until the following day, and the Wardens unfurled their bedrolls below deck as night fell. Alistair had spent much of the day seasick and bent over the bulwark. By dinner, he was in no mood to eat and disappeared to the hull with a bucket under one arm.

Nathaniel, however, was used to sea travel. He waved Elissa over to the prow, pointing to the dolphins racing ahead of the ship, and shared stories of his time in the Free Marches.

Lindise spent most of her time with the sailors, playing cards and learning sea shanties.

Paien kept to himself below decks.

Now in the darkness of night, Elissa could just make out his form, tiptoeing around the sleeping Wardens and making his way up the ladder that led to the upper decks.

Elissa slid Alistair's arm from her middle, slipped out from under the covers, pulled on a pair of boots, and followed after the elder Warden.

She found him to the rear of the ship, arms folded on the edge of the bulwark, staring out at the dark horizon. "Commander?"

He turned to look at her, "Cousland." He shook his head a little, turning his gaze back to the sea. "I didn't mean to wake you. Stubbed my toe on something."

"I am beginning to wonder if you ever sleep," she murmured, leaning against the wooden rail beside him.

The old man actually cracked a smile. "Not lately." He sighed, running a hand over his face. "I owe you an apology, I think."

She lifted a brow, "Really?"

"Your mage," he said. "I pushed too hard, clearly." He frowned, drumming his fingers on the edge of the bulwark. "So for that, I apologize."

"Anders is more to blame."

"The blame lies not with him alone."

She was silent for a few moments, folding her hands and rocking with the motion of the ship. Finally she said, "You knew about Justice."

"I knew about Justice."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Paien squinted up at the stars, "It wasn't important. He would be of no use to us on the road." He glanced over at her, "You kept him secret."

"I suppose," she said slowly, "I was worried you would make the sensible decision and… do away with him. I… wanted to delay that."

Paien nodded slightly, "He was one of your men. I thought you would handle it."

Elissa frowned down at the dark water, "Leaving Anders behind was part of handling the possessed corpse." Her head shook a little, "After you said he was joining us... I couldn't corner him to ask him what was to be done with Justice."

"He was avoiding you..." He exhaled, hanging his head. "I've gotten too bull headed. But we need to stop this woman."

"You haven't told us much about her," Elissa said, folding her arms across her chest and tucking her hands under her armpits to keep them warm. "Did you know her?"

"I did," he answered with a faint nod. "Sabinia was a good Warden. Smart, honorable, strong. I left Orlais before her mind began to decay… I should have known it was coming, however."

"Do you often blame yourself for things that are largely out of your control?" Elissa asked with a faint smile.

"Burden of leadership," Paien answered with a wry chuckle. "Perhaps when this is over, when you've been properly trained, you will be able to retake your place as Commander of the Grey at Vigil's Keep." He studied her out of the corner of his eye, "Your men are very loyal to you."

"Even when I make poor decisions on their behalf."

"We all make mistakes," Paien said in a low voice. "Yours just happen to be… astronomical. But you never put your people at risk. Your intentions have been good. You lack the ability to see the consequences."

Elissa grimaced a little at him and tilted her head to the side. "Thank you...?"

He chuckled again, "Ah, I believe that was a back handed compliment. That is what you call them, no? Unintended." Paien leveled a look at her, "Cousland, you are with me to learn and become a better Warden. A better leader. This is not a punishment." He paused, "It is important that I remind myself of that, as well."

Elissa studied him closely, searching his lined face. There was much more to him than the hard military front he put on. There was a storm in there, and it could just barely be seen now that the mask was allowed to slip.

Perhaps in Orlais he was the sort of man that got things done, a straight laced warrior who demanded results and was used to getting them. He was a bit like Loghain in that way, wasn't he? Cruso and Lindise certainly seemed fiercely loyal to him. She'd have to quiz the mage later to learn more about him. "Did you know Duncan?"

"I did," he nodded. "Many years ago. He was a bit of a rascal back then."

A grin slowly appeared on her face. "I can't picture that."

"I have a theory," Paien said, looking back out to the sea, "that being a Warden eventually tempers all who join. Perhaps it's the Taint, perhaps the training. Perhaps both. Wild youth calmed into firm, honorable resolve." He hesitated as if he wanted to say more, but he left the words unspoken. He turned back to Elissa, buckling his cloak a bit tighter around him, "You should get back down below, get some rest while you can. The journey ahead will be trying for all of us."

"So should you," Elissa responded, taking a step back from him.

The old man smiled grimly and shook his head, "I'll sleep when I'm dead."


	12. Chapter 12

Upon arriving in Cumberland by mid-afternoon, their situation did not improve.

Alistair couldn't get off the ship fast enough, doubled over with stomach cramps. "Maker," he wheezed, falling to his knees once he was on solid ground again. "I vote we walk back."

The docks in Nevarra weren't that different from the docks of Amaranthine, with the exceptional difference of size. The shipyards were huge, bustling with activity, with hundreds of ships dotted along the coast, loading and unloading cargo. People of every race, wearing clothing of every imaginable style shouted to one another in every language of Thedas.

"Easily ten times the size of Denerim," Nathaniel murmured, rising up onto his toes to take it all in. "And this is only the shipyard." He danced to one side to avoid a sailor darting past him.

The city itself was as colorful as its occupants. Each of the buildings was painted a different bright color, with small windows and flat roofs. The buildings were all very tall, several stories at least, and the faces that turned towards the sea were cluttered with countless balconies. Businesses were on the ground floor of the structures, with apartments above. From the docks, Elissa could spot everything from tattoo parlors to haberdasheries.

Finding one woman in this city seemed next to impossible. Elissa hauled Alistair to his feet, and glanced over at Paien. "Where do we meet your contacts?"

"There is an inn near here, the Tawdry Bell." Paien squinted as he scanned the docks. "We are to meet a pair of elves, Earnest and Bertram. They were supposed to be keeping track of her." He slung his pack over his shoulder, "Run and find the clinic, see if you can convince a healer to join us. We'll meet you at the inn."

Alistair straightened and sucked in a deep breath, hand over his stomach. "Ugh. I think I want to see a healer more than a barman for once."

"I'll tag along with you," Lindise said to Elissa, then waved to Paien. "The Tawdry Bell Inn. We'll be there before it gets dark."

Quizzing the locals that actually spoke Fereldish gave them a name: Vash. He was the healer they wanted. They were also given directions, away from the docks, and weaving down into the slums. Right at the whore house, left at the orphanage. Look for the red diamond on the door.

Deeper in, the city of Cumberland became more compact. The streets were narrow, forcing them to walk single file. The houses had been built top of one another, and some of them leaned over into the streets as if they were peering down nosily at what was happening below.

"So this Vash person, he might only know how to dress wounds and bring down fevers," Alistair mused.

"And stop the flow of blood." Lindise leaned to one side, looking at him. "That is what we need him for. Paien says Sabinia might be able to cut you open by looking at you. Drain you dry from across the room."

"I've never heard of a blood mage doing that," Elissa glanced over her shoulder at them.

"She's a very accomplished blood mage. She did blood magic for the Wardens for many many years."

"There it is!" Alistair pointed. "Red diamond."

Vash's clinic was tiny. Had Alistair not spotted it, Elissa would have passed it by. The door painted with the symbol was small, both she and Alistair would need to stoop to get inside. There was a single little window, but the outside of it was so caked with dirt that seeing inside was impossible. Elissa gripped the handle and tugged. The door didn't give. "Locked."

Alistair shook his head and stepped past her, banging on the wooden door with his gauntleted fist. "Hello! We're looking for a healer! We were told to ask for Vash!"

Footsteps could be heard from the other side. Large, heavy footfalls on an earthen floor. The painted door opened slowly, and a large, gray figure crouched and turned sideways to squeeze his massive girth from the tiny frame.

The three Wardens stepped back in alarm. "Maker's breath," Alistair stammered, "it's a Qunari."

"No." The kossith stood back to his full height once outside, rolled his broad shoulders, and stared down at them. His face was square with a narrow white beard, and the two horns that would have curved over the back of his skull were trimmed short. He was dressed simply in leather pants and white cotton shirt, and his voice both sounded and felt like distant thunder. "I am Vashoth."

Lindise backed away, eyes wide. "You're the healer?"

The Vashoth's gaze found the small elf, and he nodded. "I am. And you all look perfectly healthy. Why are you here?"

"A Qunari healer," Alistair mumbled, dumbstruck.

"No," Vash repeated, yellow eyes narrowing on him. "I am not Qunari. I am Vashoth. Perhaps it is your ears in need of medical aid?"

"When they abandon the Qun, they are no longer Qunari," Lindise said. She was now plastered against the opposite wall, staring at the huge man. "The Tal Vashoth are... mercenaries. They... they aren't supposed to be trustworthy."

Vash's sharp gaze refocused on Lindise. After a long, stony pause, he shrugged, and turned to stuff himself back through the tiny doorway.

"Wait!" Elissa said, stepping forward, "Wait. Vashoth. My name is Elissa Cousland of the Grey Wardens. We are in need of a healer for an important quest."

Vash stopped and looked back at her. "Grey Wardens." He glanced back at Lindise, then Alistair, and slowly turned his big body back to them. "You need a healer for an important quest. _How_ important?"

"Important enough to need a Tal Vashoth healer, apparently," Alistair answered.

"I am not Tal Vashosth. I am simply Vashoth." His head turned to gaze down at Alistair. "The people have taken to calling me Vash."

"One of our own has gone rogue and may have become dangerous. We need to find her," Elissa explained.

He lifted a clawed hand to stroke his beard. "Dangerous to the Wardens or to the people?" he asked, motioning down the dark, dirty alley with a hand.

"To whomever she meets," Lindise offered, stepping forward. "She is a mage, she's not in her right mind."

"A mage!" Vash almost smiled, and leaned back against the wall of his clinic. "That is very interesting. I see why you come to me and not the Circle to find a magical healer. Does this important quest pay well?"

"Yes," Elissa answered automatically. "Though I do not know how long this journey may be."

Vashoth turned his gaze back to Elissa, and his eyes were like two glittering gold coins. "Will you be able to trust me, Elissa Cousland of the Grey Wardens? Will you not fear my cutting your throat while you sleep? Stealing away all your gold and Warden secrets?"

Her brows pulled together. "No. You are a healer. One does not take up the profession for gold and glory."

"What makes you think I have chosen this path? Do not my people accept what roles are given to them?" He tilted his horned head as he regarded her with curiosity.

"The Vashoth choose their own path," Elissa said. "This is the role you wish to play."

Again, there was that almost smile on his face. Elissa had managed to work only one or two out of Sten in all the time she knew him. "Very well, Elissa Cousland of the Grey Wardens," he said at last. "My services are at your disposal."

Lindise let out a long breath. "Let's go and see if Paien found those two elves at the inn. I don't know what he's going to make of this."

Vash had turned to squeeze back into his clinic, but at Lindise's words, he froze. "What two elves?"

Alistair blinked at Vash's reaction. "What were their names? Bertram and..."

"Earnest," Vash finished. "Those men are dead."

Elissa gritted her teeth. Shit. "What happened?"

"A guardsman found them in the early morning, two days ago at the city gates. One was dead, the other was brought to me. But it was too late to help him." Vash's eyes narrowed. "They were drained of blood."

Lindise groaned and spun in an agitated circle. "This isn't good, Cousland!"

Vash's gaze flicked back to Elissa. "You are hunting a blood mage."

With a sigh, Elissa nodded to him.

Vash's gray face took on an expression of deep thought. Finally, he nodded, and turned back to his clinic once again, "Allow me to collect my things, and we shall depart."

"If... if you have any ginger root? Or horehound? Something for the stomach?" Alistair called after him. "I'd be in your debt."

* * *

><p>"Dead?" Paien repeated, staring at Lindise with wide-eyed disbelief. "She killed them?"<p>

The Tawdry Bell Inn was unremarkable in that it was much like any other tavern. Like much of Cumberland's establishments, it was small, with chairs and tables crammed into every possible place. It seemed that Nevarrians didn't much value of concept of personal space. The tavern was mostly empty this early in the day, but more and more people began to trickle in as afternoon began to give way to evening. It seemed to be a popular place with repeat business. Every time another local marched in, he was greeted with shouts of delight and pats on the back.

"They were bled dry," Lindise answered. "So I think that is a safe thing to assume."

Paien buried his face in his hands, "Maker, give me strength."

"Two days ago," Nathaniel said. "We aren't that far behind. We may yet be able to track her."

"Does this mage have a name?"

The Wardens fell silent and looked up at the kossith standing over them.

"And this is our healer," Paien muttered.

"Her name is Sabinia," Elissa answered. "She wasn't in Cumberland for very long, but if you know anything about her…"

Vash was silent, his chin resting against his chest. "I do not," he said at last.

Alistair shook his head, rolling a ginger candy about in his mouth, "So she knows we are following her, or at least that the elves were. She might think she's safe now that they are dead."

"Or she will be more careful now that she knows someone was following her," Nathaniel countered. "The fact that they were found outside the city can only mean she has left Cumberland." He got to his feet and slung his bow across his back, "Vashoth, if you could show me where the bodies were found, I may be able to uncover some clue as to where she was headed."

"The sun may be too low to see much by the time we arrive at the gates," Vash murmured.

Paien's face was still buried in his hands. "At first light," he finally said, "we will retake the hunt. They were found at the northern gate, so Sabinia is pushing north, as we suspected." He dropped his hands back into his lap. "If she is out of Cumberland, then she is further away from large groups of innocents. We are closer than we were yesterday. We _will_ find her."


	13. Chapter 13

_It doesn't hurt, does it? I'm trying to be merciful. I sharpened it all morning. The sharp blade makes a clean cut with very little pain. You will die, of course. Slowly. But not painfully. Like falling asleep. Are you comfortable? Silly question, I suppose. The straps aren't too tight? Just shake your head, my friend... Not too much, you'll make a mess. Good. They are coming, you know. It will be too late for you, but they are coming. And I need you to be ready for them._

* * *

><p>A day's trek north of Cumberland was a small village with a cozy inn. It was painted a calm blue, in the Nevarran style of painting everything in bright colors. The inn sat beside the main road, and the placement of two half open windows on the western face gave it a bored expression as it watched the setting sun.<p>

The morning had begun outside the city gates where the bodies were found. Nathaniel pointed out spots of blood, some scratches in the dirt. Her victims didn't walk there, he concluded. They were deposited there by someone else.

So the party pushed north, Paien at the lead in shining armor with a massive blade on his back, Vash taking up the rear with a bag of supplies and little dagger at his hip. As they approached the little village, a pair of boys playing on the road stopped in their tracks, stared in disbelief at the kossith, and then turned to run back into the heart of the village.

"We'll stop here," Paien said. "Spread out and ask the villagers if anyone has seen her."

Every one of them had memorized Sabinia's description by the time they reached the village. Every merchant or pilgrim on the road was stopped and grilled by Paien. Tall and lean with brown eyes and long silver hair, carrying a staff of ebonywood with silver inlay and cloudy purple crystal.

Vash squinted into the side street where the two boys disappeared, the frown on his face deepening. "I will remain here," he said at last, crossing his arms and leaning against the blue wall of the inn. On the other side of a low wooden fence that surrounded the town, a pair of chatting farmers fell silent and stared at him.

"Yes, that's probably wise," Elissa nodded. It was probably wise to keep him company, as well, from the looks those farmers were giving him.

The kossith had been almost perfectly silent for the day's march. Sten had never been terribly chatty, either. She was certainly curious about her new travelling companion. She'd encountered her share of Tal Vashoth, the violent mercenaries who rejected the Qunari philosophy. This kossith insisted he was simply Vashoth. If she remembered her talks with Sten correctly, this simply meant he was not a warrior.

Paien, Lindise, and Alistair slipped into the village, while Nathaniel popped into the inn.

Elissa crossed her arms and leaned against the wall beside him. "Have you been out of Qunari lands for very long?"

Vash nodded his large, horned head. "I have."

Typical chatty Qunari. "What made you want to leave?"

He turned his head to look down at her. "Many things, the last of which was a very comfortable looking ship."

Elissa let out a chuckle and shook her head, "Your people are a frustrating lot."

"You have met my kind before."

"I travelled with a Qunari. Sten."

"A Sten," Vash's thick brows lifted in surprise. "Not a Tal Vashoth. Interesting. It is from him you learned about the Qun?"

"Only a little. He wasn't terribly forthcoming." She rested a hand on the pommel of her sword, looking past Vash into the village. The two farmers had been joined by three more men, all whispering to one another and keeping a close eye on the kossith.

Vash frowned at her words, staring at the dirt a few moments before looking back at her face. "I left Kont-aar when I was fifteen. I was raised by Tamassrans beside the sea and would often see Rivaini merchants sail into port. While my brothers and sisters were disgusted by them, I was intrigued. They were so different from everything I had ever known. Loud, chaotic, obnoxious, passionate, and joyful. When I was twelve, I was assigned to the Ben-Hassrath. For a very short time, I worked in the viddathlok, a temple of healing and indoctrination. It was there that I met more people like those Rivaini, and while I was meant to convert them, my weakness, my doubt, my curiosity, my empathy caused the Qun to withdraw from me." He stopped, tilting his head towards the men on the other side of the gate, "There are ten of them now."

Elissa blinked at him, and then leaned to the side to look over at the farmers. The little band had doubled while she was engrossed in his story. She took a few steps forward, placing herself between Vash and the crowd. "I don't think they've seen one of your kind before…"

"My mere presence does tend to offend some people…"

The Wardens began to reappear, gathering one by one outside the inn where they had first separated. Nathaniel was the last to return, jogging out of the inn. "She was here," he said.

Paien turned to Nathaniel, brows lifted, "When?"

"Two days ago. The innkeeper said she came in very late and was given a room. She disappeared early the next morning." He paused, glancing at the other Wardens, then back to Paien. "There was also a body."

Elissa let out a hiss, shaking her head and rubbing the back of her neck. She glanced back at the growing crowd. Their rumbling was getting louder, and she could see light glinting off daggers in some of their hands.

"Who?" Vash asked.

"One of the barmaids. They found her dead with a slit throat behind the woodpile several hours after Sabinia left. I don't think they put the two events together." Nathaniel's gaze settled on Paien, "She has changed her appearance. The innkeep said she did not have silver hair, but black. But she was carrying the staff you described."

Alistair grimaced at the increasingly agitated crowd and cleared his throat, "You know... one of the locals I talked to asked me if Wardens also hunt vampires."

"Vampires?" Paien glanced over at him and let out a snort, "Maker, these backwoods people are thick."

"A popular legend in this area," Vash said in his low voice. "Monstrous creatures that come out only at night to-" He stopped suddenly, head turning to the side with a loud thwack. His gold eyes blinked in shock, hand lifting to rest against his temple. His fingers came away bloody.

The crowd of villagers had grown to twenty men, shouting, "Monster! Kill the creature!" A few of the men had begun to gather up more rocks, encouraged by the first stone to strike its target.

Alistair sighed, pulling his shield from his back and stepping in front of Vash and Lindise. "And I was looking forward to sleeping in a bed tonight."

Paien stepped forward quickly and held his hands up, "Calm yourselves! We are not your enemies!" Rocks and stones pinged off his armor, and he was forced to back away.

Lindise scowled, stepping away from Alistair, and swept her arm out in an arc. The rocks began to tumble from the villager's hands and roll away of their own accord. But by now swords and bows began to appear as well, and Alistair had to raise his shield quickly to catch an arrow headed towards Vash's heart.

Vash winced and ducked, gritting his teeth. "Kossith do not drink blood."

Nathaniel danced backwards, knocking an arrow into his bow, while Elissa stood beside Paien and called out, "The qunari is helping us hunt the blood mage who did this!"

"Vashoth!"

"I'm not going to explain the difference to them right now, Vash!"

Words did nothing to calm the crowd. Emboldened by drawing the first drop of blood, they began to surge forward. Paien pulled out his massive blade and tried to push them back with the flat of it. Alistair stepped forward, pushing with his shield.

"We have the information we stopped for," Nathaniel shouted, "we should just leave!"

"Go! Run, get him out of here!" Elissa shouted back.

Nathaniel grabbed Vash by the elbow, hauling him up the road, away from the town. Lindise stepped around them and swept her arms upward.

Elissa was knocked back on her rear and looked up to see a large wall of dirt had sprung up between them and the villagers. Alistair grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, "Come on!"

She ran with him, holding his hand tightly, as Lindise stood firm, weaving magic to keep obstacles between the Wardens and the angry mob. Those who got around or over the wall were pushed back with a strong wind. Others found patches of sticky mud appearing under their feet that made it impossible to run. Lindise was beginning to draw together dirt and stone into something resembling a massive human form when Paien grabbed her about her middle, slung her over his shoulder, and took off running after the others.

Arrows struck the dirt in their wake, but under the assault of dirt, mud, and wind, the mob eventually fell back and retreated. Lindise continued to cast spells from over Paien's shoulder until the last villager disappeared from the road and into the darkening twilight. She let out a swoon and fell limp, utterly drained.

Paien grimaced and staggered under her dead weight. He threw a look over his empty shoulder, "I think they've given up the chase."

Alistair finally released Elissa's hand and stopped. He rested his hands on his knees, hanging his head as he huffed to catch his breath. "I think I saw a few pitchforks. Anyone else see pitchforks?"

"They were afraid," Vash said as he flicked open his pack and withdrew a little blue bottle. "Fear causes people to behave in irrational ways."

"That barmaid's death must have been truly grisly for that sort of reaction." Nathaniel leaned against a fence post. "I assume this means we are making camp in the dark."

Paien motioned to Alistair to help him with Lindise. They sat her on a rock with care while Vash parted her lips to give her a dose of lyrium. She watched with some fascination how gentle his huge hands were, and how he gingerly he swept away a drop of the potion that dribbled down her chin.

Lindise groaned and seemed to regain herself. "Are they gone?"

Paien nodded to her, "Can you stand?" She nodded back and he pulled her to her feet.

"We'll want to get far from the road," Nathaniel said, squinting off into the distance. "Small fire, one that can't be easily seen." He motioned out into the darkness, "Let's try that way."

Alistair grumbled faintly to himself, but picked up Lindise's bag. "Let's get a move on, then. It's warmer up here than in Ferelden, but I'm sure the night will still be cold."

It was a long walk, stumbling in darkness away from the main road before Paien decided they had walked far enough. They were surrounded by tall grasses and strange thin trees. Nathaniel dug a firepit, and while Alistair dug through his pack for a tinderbox, Lindise rubbed her forefinger and thumb together to produce sparks from thin air. Elissa pitched their few tents, and Paien disappeared into one of them, insisting he would take the second watch.

The party sat huddled around the tiny flame in the unfamiliar darkness, waiting for the morning light or for an ambush, whichever came first. As it turned out, morning was first to arrive. The ambush came soon after.

* * *

><p><em>(Chapter 13 on Friday the 13th. We'll pretend I planned that. I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone who has commented and subscribed. Your comments keep me writing! Magical thanks to Snowhelm, LifeandFire25, Wedger, Nat2, CreatedInFyre7, Barbara, Trilobiter, and Candor's Bane. You are wonderful.)<em>


	14. Chapter 14

"Is it made of wood?"

"In part, sometimes."

"Can it be metal?"

"Yes."

"Part metal, part wood?"

"Yes."

Alistair grew silent as he walked, face twisting up in thought. "How many questions is that?"

"Including that one?" Lindise asked. "Seventeen."

"That one doesn't count!"

"It was a question."

Alistair scowled, "Is it used to break things?"

"Sometimes."

"Is it an axe?"

"No."

"A hammer?"

"It is not! That's twenty!"

"No, that's nineteen. Is it a chisel?"

"Still no!" Lindise was grinning ear to ear. "An auger."

"An auger doesn't break things!"

"If I jabbed something hard enough with an auger, it can break."

"That's cheating."

Nathaniel let out a heavy sigh, "Aren't you both a little old for this game?"

They'd been walking for hours, north along the Imperial Highway and past quiet, empty farmlands. The party had seen fewer people the farther from Cumberland they marched, and the number of pilgrims to see the Divine to the south had dropped from twenty the previous day to only four. Paien had picked up a new map of the area before they'd left Cumberland, and added notes and markers from memory. Some time tomorrow they would reach a town at where the road met the river. There they would quiz the locals yet again, then either turn east towards an entrance into the Deep Roads or continue north towards Tevinter.

Alistair rolled his eyes, "Oh, yes, we should all walk in dour silence like you. Maker forbid we try to amuse ourselves in any way at all."

"You seem to have forgotten we're hunting down a blood mage," Nathaniel said, spinning to face him. "I would like to maintain the element of surprise if possible, not herald our approach with guessing games."

Elissa rubbed the back of her neck. They still hadn't let up. Nathaniel and Alistair would only stop bickering when they decided to stop talking altogether. She could pretend ignorance as to the source of their animosity, but the reason was obvious. She certainly wasn't going to comment on it, either. She simply slowed her pace until she was walking beside Alistair, and wordlessly took hold of his hand.

Nathaniel scowled and turned away again. He quickened his pace, jogging past Vash towards a burned out, dilapidated cottage that was the victim of a fire many years ago. Most of it was collapsed and overgrown with tall grass and moss.

Alistair gave her hand a squeeze, tilting his head to grin at her, "You want a turn, my dear? I've got something picked out."

Elissa smiled faintly at him, arching a brow, "Is it a dragon?"

Alistair let out a playful groan, "It is! How do you always beat me? Every time!"

"In the Circle," Lindise said with a nostalgic smile, "before exams or a Harrowing, none of us could sleep. We'd stay up 'til the wee hours playing Twenty Questions." She glanced towards Paien as she walked, "The Wardens aren't usually very keen on the game."

"My game is chess," the elder Warden said, looking back at the elf. "Involves actual logic. And it's quieter."

"Maker, this is the most boring trek. I'm actually starting to miss the darkspawn." Alistair sighed a bit and shook his head, "We should have brought a minstrel. Can we bring a minstrel next time? Howe, you didn't bring along a lute, perchance?"

Nathaniel turned back to answer, and the world moved in slow motion the moment the bandit appeared. She was a masked, armored figure with a pair of swords, leaping from behind the decayed cottage wall. Elissa dropped Alistair's hand and drew out her blade. She managed two steps forward before the bandit's blade sunk into Nathaniel's back. Her weapon was just long enough for the red shining tip to push through his chest from behind.

He cried out in alarm and pain, and swung his arm back to strike the bandit in the face. His elbow connected with her nose with a wet crunch. She shrieked, and then pushed him off her blade, stumbling back as a red spot began to form on her mask. A moment after her scream, ten more men, armed and masked, emerged from the cottage.

Nathaniel doubled over and collapsed on the road. He was dead. He had to be. The bandit's sword slipped through his leather armor as though it were paper and ran him through. Elissa only looked down at him a moment as she chased after the woman, but she could see the life pooling under his body. She turned back to face the bandit, but suddenly Vash was between her and her target.

The huge kossith held his pretty little dagger in his hand, took one large step forward, and swung the blade in an upward arc. One of the bandits stumbled backwards, head tipped back and throat spraying red. Vash's momentum continued and he pivoted on a heel as his arm finished its swing, downwards and aimed at the prone Nathaniel. The air whistled as his knife cut through it. His steel did not strike Nathaniel's flesh, missing only by the width of two fingers.

Elissa sprinted around Vash to engage the rest of the bandits in battle. Her twin blades struck away the blow of one of the men, and she kicked him into the dirt before she drove her weapon into his chest. Paien was suddenly beside her, as was Alistair, striking down their attackers.

Lindise ran past Nathaniel and Vash, spitting spells to freeze their attackers in place. Elissa spun towards one of the ice solid bandits and her blades struck him across the chest, and he shattered into a hundred frozen pink shards.

She turned to another masked bandit. The one with the broken nose, courtesty of Nathaniel Howe. She could see the front of her mask stained with blood. She felt a sudden rush of wind as Lindise pulled at the air itself, and the bandit stumbled forward with the force of the magic. Elissa stepped forward, grabbed the woman by the shoulder and plunged her sword up into her chest. The steel slid easily through flesh, and the bandit sucked in half a breath, shuddered, and went limp. Elissa dropped the tip of her blade and stepped back, letting the dead body fall from it.

It was all over in a few moments. The other men lay dead in piles around Paien and Alistair. Breathless, Elissa turned back to see Nathaniel still on the ground, and Vash hunched over him. He still held his ornate little dagger in his hand, wet and shining red. Nathaniel's shirt was black with blood, and he remained very still. She slipped her blades back into their sheaths and felt panic gripping her by the throat like a tight fist.

"Why did you swing at him?" She slid to her knees in the dirt beside Nathaniel and gave Vash a glare.

The kossith's brows lifted as he looked back at the Warden with confusion. "Why…?"

"After you killed those bandits, you turned and swung your blade at him! Heal him!"

Vash frowned, inching away as Elissa rolled Nathaniel onto his back. His blood at turned the dirt into a red mud that stuck to his pale, still face. She wiped it away quickly, "Nathaniel."

Nathaniel sucked in a very deep breath, eyes opening wide. He sat up quickly, hand grasping at his bow like a drowning man struggling for the surface.

Elissa fell back in alarm, her rear end hitting the road, "Nathaniel!" She put her hands up quickly, "You're hurt! Be still!"

Vash had gotten back to his feet and slipped his dagger back into its elaborately carved sheath. "He is healed."

Nathaniel, still breathless and disoriented, struggled to his feet and fumbled for an arrow from his quiver. His hands fell limp when he saw the bodies littering the road. "They… got the jump on us… I _told_ you we needed to be quiet!"

Elissa stared at him in disbelief. After scrambling back to her feet, she took hold of his shoulder and slipped her hand behind his split armor. Nathaniel flinched at her touch, but she felt only blood, sweat, and scarred but unbroken skin. The bandit's blade had gone right through him. It had to pass through a lung or even his heart.

Nathaniel watched her from the corner of his eyes, and his tongue darted across his dry lips. His gaze dropped as he slowly regained his breath and his memory of what just occurred. He turned to look at Vash. "I should be dead, shouldn't I?"

"Yes," Vash replied, lifting a shoulder. "You are welcome."

"How did you do that?" Lindise asked as she stepped to Elissa's side, trying to see Nathaniel's lack of deadly injury. "Are you a mage?"

"No," Vash answered. "But one does not need to be saarebas to make use of magic."

"Your knife!" Alistair pointed at the blade on Vash's hip. "It's enchanted, isn't it?"

A large, gray hand rested almost protectively over the little blade. "Yes." He paused. "When it takes a life, it can save a life. The bandit's death replaced your companion's."

"And when were you planning on telling us about it?" Paien took a few steps closer to Vash.

"I just did," he answered calmly. "Prior to this moment, there was no reason to share." Vash moved to Nathaniel, took hold of his chin, tilted his head up, and studied his eyes. "You will need rest."

Nathaniel frowned and twisted his chin out of Vash's grasp, "I feel fine."

Vash's hand remained in the air a moment longer, fingers slowly curling into his palm. He glanced to Paien and repeated, "He will need rest."

Paien exhaled, eyes on Nathaniel. He nodded. "Off the road, let us find a place to make camp."

"But it's barely past midday!" Nathaniel turned to follow Paien, "If we stop-…" Nathaniel took a single step, and his leg folded up under his weight. He began to fall, but Vash caught him with a single large hand on his shoulder. Nathaniel yelped in pain and his hand flew to his chest.

"You will heal fully," Vash said, "but you will need rest." He carefully pulled Nathaniel upright again, not releasing him until the man found his balance.

Nathaniel rubbed his chest and eyeballed the Vashoth. "Fine," he said, his voice a hiss. "Let us make camp."


	15. Chapter 15

He'd slept longer than he'd intended. Nathaniel was made to sit off to the side while the others pitched his tent. He was ushered inside like a damn invalid, and despite his irritation, he fell into a deep sleep the moment his eyes closed and his cheek was on his pillow.

Nathaniel had fallen asleep to the sound of birds and soft voices, and the sunlight through the trees made the canvas of his tent glow with dappled light. It was night when he awoke, hearing the crackling of a fire in the darkness and the voices of the Wardens gathered around it. He could spell meat cooking over the flames, and felt his hungry stomach ball up like a fist.

"So where did you get it?" he heard Lindise ask.

"From your people." It was Vash who answered.

Nathaniel rolled onto his side and winced slightly when he reached out for his bag. The healing magic of the dagger was nothing like Anders' spells. He was tired and sore, and Vash had asked him to sip at healing poultices regularly.

"My people?" Lindise said in surprise. "Do you mean elves or mages?"

"The Dalish."

Alistair chuckled, "This I have to hear. Promise us you'll tell us a story every night."

"When I arrived in Rivain," he heard the kossith say, "I had nowhere to go. So I lived in the Chantry. The sisters there seemed eager to keep a former qunari, a trophy to show the power of the Chant over the Qun. I was content to have a warm bed and free meals, and I would try to heal the sick and wounded who sought sanctuary. But I did not belong there. Trading one unsatisfying doctrine for another was pointless. They had no answers. My time there was short."

"Hard to imagine a kossith in a Chantry." Elissa. Nathaniel swallowed a mouthful of the sour red potion, and reached a hand out to part the canvas covering the tent's entrance.

She sat beside the bastard prince, her brown curls let down and glowing in the firelight. They were eating together, what looked like rabbit and wild carrots. Paien was missing, no doubt taking the first round of sleep before his watch, as usual.

"As I said, my time there was short." Vash nodded to Elissa from the opposite side of the campfire. "So I left. Seeking, wandering. I soon became lost in the wilderness and the Dalish found me."

"And they just… welcomed you into their camp?" Alistair asked with a dubious look.

"No. They attacked me. I was barely alive, dragged back to the Keeper as a curiosity. She recognized me as former qunari. Many of her people had left the Dalish way of life to embrace the Qun. It is so much easier to have answers given to you than be forced to seek out what has long been forgotten. Once again, I was a symbol and a prize." He paused to suck the last morsel of rabbit meat from a bone. "But," he continued, "the Dalish were very different from the Chantry sisters. The Keeper healed my wounds, and I gave her advice during the process. She thought this very amusing, and we were soon friends."

"Wow," Lindise breathed.

"I lived with the Dalish for a very long time. I was content. With them I found a freedom from purpose. With them, I merely existed." He paused. "The Keeper gave me the blade. Some old artifact found in elven ruins, its intent long forgotten. When she died, I knew that it was time for me to move on."

"Why?" Lindise asked.

"Her First did not care for me." Vash pitched the naked bone into the fire. "He became the Keeper, and I left the clan for Cumberland."

Elissa rose, stepping carefully around the fire with plate of food in hand, "Nathaniel hasn't eaten, I'll be a moment."

He quickly withdrew his hand to let the tent flap fall. He tucked the health poultice back into his bag, and his eyes fell on his leather chestpeice. It lay on the ground beside his pack, sliced and stained with blood. He rested his hand on the center of his bare chest. It had its share of scars, including the new one from today, pink and fat as an earthworm. He stroked the mark thoughtfully, and looked up as Elissa Cousland stepped into his tent, plate in hand. "Elissa."

She sat across from him, holding out the plate of food, "Feeling better?"

He grimaced, but nodded, taking the plate from her. "It was a foolish mistake," he muttered, then shook his head. "That fool should not have been jabbering on like he was!"

"We were ambushed."

"And I would have seen it coming if not for his inane distractions."

Elissa was silent, searching his face. "Stop it," she said softly, shaking her head. "Just stop."

His gaze fell, and he set the plate off to the side. "I could have died today," he murmured.

"I'm thankful that you didn't."

His thin, pale hands reached out and took hers, and he ran his thumbs, rough from years of plucking bowstrings, over her knuckles.

When Nathaniel was eleven, he and Fergus had come to the conclusion that girls were disgusting creatures, and they wanted nothing to do with either of their sisters. This arrangement was perfectly fine for Delilah. She was far more interested in playing with dolls and tea sets. But for Elissa, it was unacceptable.

One sunny summer afternoon, he, Fergus, and Thomas had gathered in the courtyard with wooden swords. Elissa wanted to join in their tournament, and Nathaniel, in a particularly foul mood, told her to sod off. Young Elissa Cousland burst into tears and ran off, only to return ten minutes later with her father. Bryce Cousland scolded the boys and demanded they let her play.

This was the last straw. As soon as her father left, Nathaniel tossed Elissa a wooden sword. "You want to spar with us? Fine."

He was twice her size, and she made a few fumbling jabs at him. For some reason, Nathaniel swung his sword and rapped it hard against her knuckles. Elissa cried out in pain and stumbled back, tears welling up again.

Father had done that to him during a swordplay lesson the previous day, with the flat of a real blade, and his hand was still swollen and bruised. Nathaniel sneered at the girl, "You're going to cry now? You can't come out here and play with us and pretend to be a warrior if you're going to cry."

Fergus jumped up to defend his baby sister, "Cut it out!"

But Elissa's hand tightened around her sword, and she gave Nathaniel a dark look. She swung at him with her own sword, holding it in both hands like a club, and caught him on the arm. He shouted in alarm and pain, said something nasty to her, and she threw the sword down and ran off. He assumed that she dashed off to find her father to tattle again, so he and the other boys ran off to the woods. When they finally returned for supper, there was no harsh punishment waiting for them, only a silent and surly eight year old who kept shooting them dirty looks across the table.

All these years later, here she was again, sitting across from him in silence. After everything he had done to her, here she still was. He stroked her knuckles again, shaking his head. "This is torture," he said in a low voice. "Pure, cold, cutting torture."

Nathaniel finally looked back at her face to see it a brilliant shade of red. Was she embarrassed or excited? He lifted one hand to touch her beautiful face, and she did not pull away, wide eyes locked on his. He could have died today, and he wasted no time in leaning in to take a sudden, breathless kiss.

She did kiss back, only briefly, sucking in a sudden breath before pulling away, not looking at him. "Nathaniel," she breathed and shook her head.

He dropped his hands back into his lap and let out a slow exhale. "Not... having done that would have been my only regret." Nathaniel watched her closely, her large eyes staring at the ground, chest rising and falling a bit too quickly, the red in her face having spread to her ears. Honestly, he was bracing himself for a slap or an angry tirade.

"Don't-... I-..." She shook her head once more, and motioned to the plate, "You need to eat. Vash says you should be all right to carry on come morning."

He felt a slow smile creep over his features. He had never seen her flustered. Never. That was... promising. Nathaniel dipped his chin in a nod and picked up the plate. "Yes, of course."

She nodded back and scooted backwards on her hands and knees towards the tent exit. "Right. See you in the morning, then." Elissa was gone, out into the darkness and back to the fire with the others.

Nathaniel reclined back onto his bedroll, chewing thoughtfully on a morsel of boiled carrot. He rested a hand on his new scar and murmured to the darkness, "Hope springs eternal."


	16. Chapter 16

Where the Minanter River met the Imperial Highway, there was a large and busy trading town called Bisbeck. It sat in the shadow of a massive white marble bridge built in the days of ancient Tevinter that spanned the Minanter like an alabaster giant's outstretched arm. Not far to the west along the river sat the capital city of Nevarra, but Bisbeck was the trading hub where all ships and carts stopped. The town was filled with more inns, gambling dens, and brothels than private homes. Bisbeck was not the sort of place where anyone lingered for very long. Everyone stopped there with the intention of moving on to something better.

Being the sort of town where no one considered themselves a permanent resident, the Wardens' inquiries were fruitless. No one had seen the mage they described. No one paid any attention to odd strangers in a town full of them.

They planned to gather again at nightfall in the Priest and Goat Inn. Paien and Alistair were the first to arrive. Their questioning of the locals had been utterly fruitless in terms of helpful information, but they were offered several two for one specials by various ladies of the evening.

They sat together in silence, sipping at their ales. Paien was worn down. The previous night at camp, Alistair had come to relieve him from guard duty, and Paien had tried to wave him off, insisting that he wasn't tired. This had become routine. When Alistair finally convinced the old man to return to his tent, he sat and wondered how Paien could even function on such little sleep.

He thought about it again in the tavern, lips twisted up in thought as he studied the foam of his ale. Even back at the Keep, Paien didn't seem to sleep. The last time he could think of a Warden behaving that way…

Alistair sat slowly upright, and he turned to stare at Paien with a sudden realization. "I'm onto you."

Paien looked at the young man, brows arching. "Are you?" he asked, sounding both doubtful and unimpressed.

Alistair nodded once, "Yes. I am." He drummed his hands on the bartop before straightening and looking at Paien. "I remember when Duncan started having the dreams."

Paien's cool expression fell away instantly, and he glanced over his shoulder at the door, checking to see if the other Wardens had arrived. "Not a word."

For a moment, Alistair was disappointed. He was looking forward to making his case, stating the clues to his suspicion. Paien always taking the first round of sleep before staying up all night at camp. The restlessness, the irritability. His pressing need to finish his quest as quickly as possible. But Paien just… admitted to it. Alistair frowned, "Is it wise to be out here, hunting this woman down in the state you're in?"

"I have time," Paien answered, his voice a hiss. "I will see this to the end, and then I will address the Calling."

"Do the other Wardens know? At Weisshaupt?"

Paien was silent for a few moments, glaring at Alistair. "The only thing you should be focusing on-"

Alistair shook his head and lifted his hand, "Nononono, no deflection."

"It's none of your-"

"Do you, in fact, have any intention of returning to Vigil's Keep?"

The anger melted from the older man's face, replaced with hopelessness and a hint of desperate fear. "I do not know," Paien said at last. "I am making preparations for whatever the Maker has planned for me."

Alistair watched the man, and felt guilt beginning to creep in. He probably should have asked a bit more delicately. "Setting Cruso up in your absence," he said slowly. "Preparing Elissa for leadership."

Paien nodded, frowning at his drink. "Not a word," he said again. "We don't need to turn this into a farewell tour. Lindise…" He paused, and then shook his head. "We will focus on finding Sabinia, nothing else."

Alistair nodded, and soon the others began to trickle in, Elissa with the kossith, and Nathaniel with the mage. No one had discovered anything of use. No one in Bisbeck remembered seeing the blood mage. No one could recall any murders out of the ordinary. Paien ordered a fresh round of drinks, rubbed his face wearily, and leveled a look at Elissa.

"Cousland," he said, "If you were leading, what would you do now?"

Elissa paused and leaned back in her chair. "As I see it, we have two options. We split up with one team headed to Tevinter and another team into the Deep Roads, or we wait for her to claim another victim."

"A victim would go ignored in a place like this," Vash murmured as he scanned the faces in the inn's tavern.

Paien nodded to Elissa, "And waiting for that to happen is unacceptable. We have one mage, one healer, and one Templar. How would you divide us?"

Elissa frowned, "I would… hm."

The elder Warden nodded, "We cannot split up. While splitting up would save time, it would ultimately leave both teams at a disadvantage."

"If she's gone into the Deep Roads," Alistair leaned forward, motioning with his hands, "doesn't that solve our problem? Didn't we want her to go into the Deep Roads?"

"She will not stay there," Paien shook his head, expression darkening. "She will only hide there, undisturbed. Sabinia… No, we must take her deep as we can, close her in so she cannot escape."

Nathaniel took the tray from the barmaid when she arrived, passing out mugs. "You haven't told us everything about her."

Lindise sat upright and began speaking quickly, "She's killed three people already, she's a blood mage. She may become possessed, she must be stopped."

"I know her mind best, even in this state," Paien answered in flat tones. "Where she will go, what she might do, where she might hide." His head shook, "We will not wait for her to kill again. My strongest suspicion is that she will retreat to Tevinter. She always felt safest there."

"You would be wrong."

The Wardens fell silent and turned to the voice.

There was a hooded figure at the next table. His lean, compact frame marked him as an elf, even though the hood hid both his pointed ears and his features. His voice was low and gravelly, and Alistair thought he heard the hint of a Tevinter accent.

"Beg pardon?" Paien asked.

The elf tilted his head slightly, "You would be wrong. The mage you seek has not fled into Tevinter."

"And who are you?" Alistair asked as he leaned to one side, trying to see the man's face.

The elf shook his head and wrapped his hands around his mug. Alistair caught a glimmer of white across his palms. Scars? "My name is unimportant. Know only that if you seek to kill a Tevinter mage, I wish to aid you. She went east."

Paien's eyes narrowed, "How do you know this?"

The elf lifted a shoulder and leaned back in his chair. "I pay attention. No one else does in a town such as this, which is the reason I have remained as long as I have. But I know what you seek. I kept a very close eye on her when she was here."

Elissa and Paien exchanged glances, and then looked back at the elf. "Go on," Elissa said.

"Long black hair, dirty red robes, armed with a very expensive staff of Tevinter design. She wandered the streets in the night, looking more lost than crazed. One night she found a drunk and led him away, out of my sight. I am certain he is dead."

Paien's eyes closed and his chin dropped, but he remained silent.

"Yesterday morning, she left. Following the river east. I have not seen her return." The elf leaned forward, and Alistair could see more scars on his chin. No, they were tattoos, pale, white scarified lines that ran over his chin and down his throat in carefully burned designs. "Will you kill her, Wardens?"

"Yes," Paien said as he drew in a deep breath. "Should it come to that."

"It will," the elf said. He finished his drink and rose. His hand dropped to pick up a massive blade from the seat beside him, and he slid it into the sheath across his back.

Elissa's brows lifted, "You're a swordsman."

"Obviously."

"We could always use another blade."

The elf paused, and he turned to look at her. Finally he said, "No. I am trying to stay away from mages. Not go running after them. But you," he dipped his chin to the Wardens, "happy hunting." He easily wove his way through the tavern, and disappeared out into the night.

"Was he following us?" Alistair scowled and turned his mug in his hands as he stared at the tavern entrance. "Does this feel like a trap to anyone else?"

"We're only a day behind her now," Nathaniel said. "And the entrance to the Deep Roads is to the east."

Paien sat in silence, one hand folded over the other under his chin. He glanced to Elissa, lifting a brow. "A stroke of luck."

"So it would seem, yes."

"At first light," Paien said, lifting his mug to his lips, "we will depart for the entrance to the Deep Roads."

"Am I the only one who thinks this feels like a trap?" Alistair looked from one Warden to the other.

"If it is, we'll find her that much quicker." Paien took a long draw from his mug, and dropped it back onto the table with a handful of coins. "I'll secure us some rooms here."

Alistair frowned and leaned back in his chair, watching the older man cross the tavern to wave down the innkeeper. Something smelled wrong about all of this. More than the scarred elf, more than the Old Gods whispering to Paien in his sleep. _You aren't telling us everything_, Nathaniel had said. He was right about that, wasn't he? Maker, he hated that the Howe was right again.

Something just felt wrong, and Alistair wasn't able to put his finger on what. But the creeping sensation that felt like clawed fingers on the base of his skull would not go away until the day he dropped into darkness.


	17. Chapter 17

It was certain to be their last night in a bed for some time, and Alistair was very vocal about his delight over the fact. "I mean, it smells a bit funny, but I'll take soft and funny smelling over hard rocks jabbing into your back."

He turned back to Elissa after she finished helping unbuckle his armor. She remained silent, eyes downcast, thoughts a million miles away.

"Darling," he said softly and lifted a hand to brush his fingertips along her temple. "I wish you would tell me what was going on in there."

Elissa blinked, her blue eyes focusing on him. She gave him a light smile and shook her head. "Nothing." She crawled into the narrow bed, "You've got more room to stretch out in a tent, I'll say that much."

He watched her move away from him, and he let out a long sigh. Alistair wasn't imagining it. No, she'd never been very forthcoming with her thoughts. But whenever he would ask, she would share them. His inquiries would always break the dam between her head and her tongue, and words would tumble out freely. The sheer amount of ideas, fears, opinions, and doubts that she kept to herself always surprised him, and there were many nights spent together tangled and talking. But now? He got literally 'nothing.'

He never should have gone to Highever.

Alistair pushed a hand through his hair and followed her to the bed, "I love you. More than anything. You know that."

She lay on her side and propped her head up on her arm, that same faint smile still on her face as she watched him, "I know."

"And you..." Alistair knelt beside the bed and ran his fingers through her soft brown curls, "love me too, right?"

Elissa's smile grew warmer, and she leaned closer to kiss his lips, "I love you, too."

"We haven't..." He frowned, grasping for words. "It's been different, somehow. I mean, I know, everything is different now that the Blight is over... Maker, I'm not even sure what it is I want to say here..."

She rested her head back on the pillow, looking away from him as she traced designs on the bedspread.

"We haven't even properly... made love since I got back."

She looked back at him, her brows pulling together, "That's not true."

"It felt like you weren't there," he answered with a wrinkled brow. "I want to know what's going on with you."

Elissa rolled away from him onto her other side with a sigh, "I'm tired, Alistair, I am not in the mood for this."

"And it seems like you never will be." He gripped the edge of the narrow wooden bed and pulled it away from the wall, slipping around to the other side to keep her face in view.

"Maker, Alistair, I don't know what you want me to say."

"Something is different with you!"

"Nothing is different!"

"That's bullocks, and you know it!" His fingers dug into the blankets, gaze intense on her, "I feel as though you're slipping away from me, and that terrifies me! And… and you're not even making an effort to hang on!"

Her blue gaze fixed on his face, and her chin wrinkled as she frowned at him. Elissa sat up and slid towards him, wrapping both arms about him and buried his face in her chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Alistair sighed and shook his head as he wrapped his arms back about her. "That's not good enough. Tell me."

"Wynn and I talked about you once. About us. How love is selfish, how we as Grey Wardens should know better."

"Yeah… she gave me the same lecture."

"And how unwilling I would be some day to sacrifice that love for the greater good." Elissa loosened her hold and leaned back to look down at him. "And then Paien shows up and says the same thing, more or less. And now I have to prove myself to him that I am capable, that I am able to lead and make the right choices…"

Alistair slid onto the bed to sit beside her, icy dread creeping up from the base of his spine. "So… what are you saying?"

"I don't know what I'm saying. I don't even know what I'm thinking or feeling or…" She dropped her elbows to her knees and buried her face in her hands.

Alistair ran a hand up her back, watching her closely. "Do you… regret it? Us?"

"Maker, no." She dropped her hands into her lap and stared at him.

"I'm not… proud of what I had to do to keep us both alive." He paused, "I certainly didn't enjoy it. Honestly, I just kept my eyes closed as much as possible."

Elissa slid away from him with an expression of disgust, "I don't want to hear about this."

Alistair's mouth tightened, voice taking on a harder edge, "So it should just remain this horrible unspoken thing that's quietly poisoning everything else?" He got to his feet, "You go on about being unwilling to make sacrifices, but I am the one who did it. I did not enjoy it, and Morrigan- Maker, Morrigan." He shook his head and paced to the other side of the room.

"I don't want to hear this," Elissa said again.

"I want to say it." He turned back to her. "She was so damn determined. Toying with me, playing with me, smirking at my protests. Trying to get a reaction out of me, like always. I did not want to be with her. But I did it anyways." He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand.

Elissa stared up at him, hands clasped between her knees. When she spoke, her voice was barely there. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to do that…"

"What alternative was there?" He walked towards her, and dropped to his knees again. "Losing you? Battling over who would get to die? Don't pretend that wouldn't have turned into a fist fight up on that tower." Alistair shook his head, "And don't regret for one minute the choice we made, don't you dare."

"Would you ever ask me to do the same?"

The question caught him off guard, and for a few moments, Alistair said nothing. But for some reason, he pictured Nathaniel Howe.

She pressed him in his silence, "If there was a man that I did not like, and he asked you for permission to lay with me..."

Alistair shook his head to clear it of unsavory images, and he wrapped his arms about her middle as he rested his head in her lap. "Stop this, I mean it. Forgive yourself. And you have nothing to prove to anyone. Certainly not to Paien. If he thinks that you're somehow weak because you're in love," he lifted his head to look up at her, "then he can get stuffed. Man doesn't know the first thing about strength. And not a damn thing about you."

He felt her light fingers stroking his scalp. "I feel," she said slowly, "like I need to think."

Alistair's shoulders dropped as he looked back up at her. "About what?" he asked, his voice a bit more cross than he had intended.

She blinked at him, brows lifting. "About… what I want, what my place is, what's best for the Wardens…"

He fell back to sit on the ground, staring up at her in disbelief. About… _what she wants_? Did… did she not want him? "Maker," he said. "What happened while I was away?"

Elissa frowned, "Nothing happened, I just-"

"Is this about the Howe?"

Her head tipped back in frustration, "Not this again. Alistair."

Alistair was on his feet, scowling down at her, "You two, laughing it up at dinner, giggling together on the boat while I was feeding the fish my innards."

She glared right back at him, "You're being ridiculous. Stop."

"I'm sorry I wasn't raised wealthy and well off and… and knowing which spoons to use when. I'm sorry I'm such a step down for you."

"Enough," Elissa said, getting to her feet. "Do you hear yourself?"

He shook his head and stepped back. "You have to think about what you want. You have me, you are a Warden, and you can still lead them at some point. You have everything, so what more can you want, Elissa?" He threw his hands into the air.

Elissa glared at him, "There is what I want, and then there is what is best. I don't know if they are the same thing anymore."

Alistair stared at her a long moment in silence, and he could feel his whole body trembling. Finally, he crossed the room and pulled on his boots. "And you expect me to just wait until you make a decision."

"I don't want to lose you," Elissa began.

"But you convinced yourself you can't have it all! So now _you_ get to figure out which you want more. To the Void with what I want."

She followed him across the little room, scowling, "You're being childish. You've been needling at me for weeks to tell you what's been on my mind, and I finally do, and this is how you react."

"Right," he drawled, turning to the door, "You didn't want my input at all. I'll leave you to think." The sound of the door slamming behind him was immensely satisfying.

They'd had rows before, of course. They certainly weren't immune to the sort of disagreements that any other couple had. This was his first romance, after all, and he'd made his share of blunders. But it occurred to him as he stalked out into the dark silence of the hallway that this was the first time he'd ever walked out after an argument, and he was overcome with the desire to turn right back around and start apologizing.

"_Apologize for what?_" the still peeved part of his mind spat back. _"You have been loving and faithful, and she is actually thinking of abandoning you for…" _Here he faltered. For what? A greater cause? Because he was too much of a distraction? Bit late for that, wasn't it?

Alistair plopped himself down on a barstool in the empty tavern below and dropped his head onto the bar top with a faint _thunk_. He should really go apologize, shouldn't he? If he wanted to keep her, he was doing a bang-up job of making his case.

He sat that way in silence for several more minutes, forehead resting on the bar, eyes closed. He ran several scenarios and apologies through his head several times. He finally settled on the simplistic, "I love you and I don't want to lose you either," before he got back to his feet and walked back up the stairs to their room.


	18. Chapter 18

It was early morning when they departed for the chasm that lead to the Deep Roads, and the sky decided to open up and pour down buckets of rain before the day's trek was half over. Large, red leaved trees provided some cover from the downpour as they moved closer to the caves in a silent single file.

Alistair dug into his pack, scowling. His return and apology were both awkward, and it felt as though nothing had been repaired between them. They slept back to back, and when morning came they rose and dressed in silence. Everyone else was just as miserable as he was, thanks to the rain. The walk was an easy one, at least. All downhill. "Blast!"

Lindise looked over at Alistair, brow raised. "What is it?"

"My razor," he mumbled, shifting the weight of his pack to his hip. His hand dug into it again, fingers feeling along the bottom for the steel. "I couldn't find it this morning."

"Ah, so that's why you're looking so scruffy."

Nathaniel walked ahead of the others as usual, but his footsteps paused as he looked back at Alistair. "What was that?"

"I said I can't find my straight razor."

Nathaniel pivoted on the balls of his feet, and from his pocket he withdrew a folded straight razor. He held it up for Alistair to see with a casual air, the steel shining in the murky light. "This razor?"

Alistair blinked, then smirked, jogging a few steps closer over the wet mud and rocks of the sloping forest trail. "What, did you nick it when I wasn't looking?"

Nathaniel jogged a few steps back, and the razor remained just out of Alistair's reach. "No, you left it at camp. I found it."

Alistair frowned. "Ah, right. Well. Thank you." Another step forward, hand outstretched.

Another step backwards, "You left it behind." His feet moved easily over the wet dirt, and the forest opened up to reveal a steeper drop down into the chasm below. "You really need to take better care of your things."

"Oh, so you think you get to keep it now?" Alistair made yet another grab for the razor, giving Nathaniel a shove in the process.

Nathaniel stumbled back, but managed to keep the razor out of reach. "Don't blame me; it was your own carelessness that caused you to lose it. So yes, now it's mine."

Elissa let out a weary sigh, rubbing the raindrops from her eyelashes. She was just about to tell the both of them to cut it out when Alistair leapt on Nathaniel in a sudden fury.

The larger warrior barreled into the leaner bowman, knocking him to the ground and halfway down the embankment. The two men tumbled together, somersaulting down through the mud and stone, grasping and punching at one another. The razor fell away, bounced off a rock, and disappeared into the weeds.

Paien stopped short and crossed his arms with a look of annoyance as they tumbled past him. "Well, we all saw this coming, didn't we?"

Elissa scrambled down the hill after them. "Stop it! Stop it, both of you!"

The two men continued to roll as the path got steeper, and they soon were swallowed by the darkness of the cave below. They hit the more even dirt floor of the cave with a heavy thud, and for a moment, Alistair had Nathaniel pinned, striking blows across his face with his fists.

Nathaniel grunted, kicked the man off him, and rolled away. He quickly got back to his feet and rammed into the warrior with all his strength. The dark path inside the cave dropped suddenly, and as Alistair fell over the side, he grabbed onto Nathaniel, who went over the edge with him.

Nathaniel could make out for only a fraction of a second the shimmering outline of a pool. And they were both falling into it. He pressed his body flat against the ground to slow the fall, but Alistair was so much heavier. He tumbled down towards the dark pool, and Nathaniel was dragged along with him.

With a dull thick splash, Alistair vanished into the dark deep pool at the bottom of the cave.

It was blood. It was a pool of blood.

Nathaniel barely stopped himself from sliding in after him. He instantly plunged his hands into the thick mess, burying his arms nearly to the shoulders in a frantic attempt to find Alistair. His hands finally closed on armor, and he shouted out for help.

Elissa was behind him a moment later, grabbed him around the middle, and pulled. Their strength combined hauled Alistair out of the pool of blood and back to the cave floor.

As soon as his blood covered skin hit air, however, Nathaniel was struck with a blinding pain, and doubled over on the ground. Beside him, the completely blood-soaked Alistair let out an ethereal scream, writhing in agony.

"Lindise! Help! The blood, get it off him!"

The mage was over him, eyes wide in shock. Her thin, pale arms waved above him, conjuring water from thin air. Her arms spread wide and the hovering water fell, washing the burning blood from his arms. His skin was stained pink from the gory pool, but the pain faded almost instantly.

With a grunt, Nathaniel sat up and looked over at Alistair. Vash finally made his way down the hill, and the big kossith was stripping off the blood soaked armor while Alistair continued to scream. Lindise spun and repeated the water conjuring trick, bathing the man completely to rid him of the blood.

The screaming ended, and Alistair went limp, his head lolling to the side.

Paien stood very still at the edge of the blood pool, looking up. Elissa followed his gaze to see bodies. Men, women, elves, darkspawn. There were about ten in all, dangled from their ankles from the cave ceiling with slit throats. One body was fresh, and now that the screaming had stopped, all that would be heard the dripping sound of blood from a victim into the pool.

"She is here," Paien said in a hushed voice. He almost sounded excited.

Elissa quickly turned back to Alistair and shook him by the shoulders to rouse him. "Alistair!"

The man remained limp and lifeless.

"Vash, do something!"

Vashoth remained crouched beside the unconscious Alistair, touching his throat, opening his eyes, resting a hand on his chest. "This is no injury I can treat. This is magic."

"Lindise!"

The elven mage blinked a few times, looking horrified and lost as her big brown eyes went to the dangling bodies to Paien, to Alistair. Elissa called her name again, forcing her to focus. "It's blood magic! I was never allowed to learn that!"

Nathaniel bent over with a groan, "My arms..."

Elissa sucked in a breath and pushed her wet hair out of her face, "Nathaniel, do they still hurt? What can we-"

"I can't move them." He lifted his head to meet her gaze. His arms, which had been in the cursed blood nearly to his armpits, dangled like dead weights. He pushed himself to his feet. "I can't even feel them. What is this?"

Paien was tiptoeing around the blood pool with cautious purpose. "Sabinia!"

"Paien, you need to stay here!" Elissa called out to him. She closed her eyes and ran possibilities through her head. "We need to leave. Now."

Paien was on the other side of the pool now, and shook his head vigorously, "No. No, we are so close!"

Lindise wrung her hands, staring up at the dangling dead. "Paien." She rose, turning to face him, "Paien, please. I know you want to find her, but we... we can't face her like this. Please."

The old Warden looked over at the others, his chest rising and falling steadily under his armor. He wore a pained expression, apologetic. A moment later, he broke into a run, disappearing down one of the tunnels and into the dark.

Lindise cried out in alarm, scrambling after him, "Paien!"

Elissa jumped up and grabbed her by the arm, "Lindise, no. Stop."

Nathaniel gritted his teeth and shook his head. "Let him go. We can use your magic to block up the entrance."

"No!" Lindise spun back to him. "No, we cannot leave him in here, not like this!" She tugged at her arm to get out of Elissa's grip, "Please, he's no match for her, we can't leave him!"

Elissa's hand tightened around her, and she looked back at Alistair on the ground. He was alive, but for how long? What had her magic done? What would it do as the day wore on?

Maybe if they found the blood mage, they could force her to reverse the spell she'd cursed Alistair and Nathaniel with. She took in a breath, about to tell Nathaniel to remain here with Alistair and Vash when a familiar chill crept up her skull. Lindise and Nathaniel both looked suddenly alert, searching the dark corners of the cave with wary eyes. They felt it, too.

She pulled one of her swords from its sheath.

"What is it?" Vash asked, looking up at them.

"Darkspawn."

"Elissa." Vash was staring at her, hand resting on the center of Alistair's chest. "We may find help for them both at the Circle. They cannot remain here."

Nathaniel had backed himself up against the cave wall, to keep from being attacked from behind. His arms still hung limp from their sockets. He couldn't feel his arms, which meant he could not draw his bow. "We're all leaving."

"No!" Lindise shook her head, lifting her staff. "Not without Paien! Not without killing that bitch!"

Elissa watched Alistair. He looked asleep, with wet hair plastered to his forehead and a chin of unshaven stubble. All she wanted to do was stay with him. Protect him. Not leave his side until he awoke.

"Take him," she said, looking back at Vash. "Take him and Nathaniel, get them to safety. Now. Go!"

The Vashoth nodded once, and effortlessly slung the prone Warden over his shoulder.

Nathaniel stepped towards her, eyes wide, "Elissa."

"No arguing. You're in no state to stay and fight. Go. Get help." She rested a hand on the side of his neck, then stepped away, motioning Lindise to lead the chase after Paien.

Nathaniel rocked back on his heels as he watched the two women creep around the pool and down the cave tunnel. He tipped his head back and said, "Shit."  
>"Do you require aid?" Vash asked.<p>

"No." He shook his head and turned his run. His dead arms flopped awkwardly at his sides as he moved. "You should go with them."

"You cannot carry Alistair," Vash replied, "otherwise I would. Hurry, before the darkspawn arrive."

Nathaniel's whole head was tingling. The darkspawn were very close. Would Elissa be able to handle them with only a hysteric mage? Dash it all.

There was a rumbling sound behind them, and Nathaniel turned to look. When he saw the darkspawn crawling up from beneath the dirt floor, he wished he hadn't. "Run!" he shouted to Vash, sprinting past him and ignoring the growls and grumbles that were increasing in number.

His feet slipped on the steep, wet ground, and without arms to catch himself he fell hard. Vash grabbed him and hauled him back to his feet. It was ridiculous how difficult this was when his legs worked just fine. He cast a glance behind him again and spotted five darkspawn at their heels. "You may need to fight, Vashoth!"

"With what?"

"His blade? My bow?"

"I have never handled either!"

"Grab his sword!" Nathaniel stumbled and fell again, and again Vash picked him up. This time, he threw Nathaniel over his other shoulder and ran. But he stumbled as well. The weight, the slope, the wet dirt was too much for even the large kossith.

Vash let out a curse in his native tongue and struggled to get back to his feet with his burdens. Nathaniel looked up, and saw a darkspawn standing over him with a lipless grin. The creature lifted its blade with relish, and a moment later Nathaniel was covered in blood once more.


	19. Chapter 19

There was a shout, and the darkspawn looked up with wide, surprised eyes. Its blade was still held in mid-air, ready to cleave Nathaniel in two. A man flew past Vash and the Wardens, and with flashing steel, the darkspawn's head was removed from its shoulders.

Nathaniel sputtered and shook his head, shutting his eyes against the close spray of darkspawn blood.

Vash dropped Nathaniel in alarm, and with a grunt, Nathaniel rolled onto his back and blinked the blood out of his eyes to look up at their savior.

It was the tattooed elf from the tavern. His massive blade swung again, lobbing the arm off another darkspawn before it dug into the hip of another. The creatures fell under the elf's quick movements, and soon all that remained of the small horde was bloody body parts on the wet cave floor.

The elf took in a deep breath, stepped back, and looked down at Nathaniel. "I thought your order was supposed to be good at fighting these things." He reached a hand out to help the man up, and then looked annoyed when Nathaniel didn't accept it.

Vash got back to his feet and picked up Nathaniel yet again. "He was cursed by blood magic," he explained. "His arms do not work at the moment."

The elf's eyes ran over Alistair's prone form before they returned to the former qunari. "Shanedan. Theanan et bas saarebas. Asha?"

Vash blinked at the elf. "Not I," he answered. "The others went after her. We left to find aid." He settled Alistair on the ground with care, and then dug into his pack, pulling out a roll of canvas bandages.

The elf settled his blade over his shoulder with a grimace, staring down into the dark cave. "Ketaasa, Tal Vashoth?"

Vash sighed heavily, "No. And you're being very rude, elf." He stepped closer to Nathaniel, crossed his limp arms over his chest and wrapped him with the bandages about his torso to hold his arms in place. That should make it easier to run without them flapping about wildly like dead fish, even if he felt like a mummified Nevarran.

The elf shrugged, looking back at Nathaniel. "My apologies. My name is Fenris. It appears you may need an escort."

"You followed us," Nathaniel murmured as he remained still under Vash's careful wrapping. "Why?"

Fenris paused, staring down into the darkness. "I suppose I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see the death of a Tevinter mage in the name of justice, rather than status."

Vash found a cloth in his bag, and wiped Nathaniel's face clean. Nathaniel winced when he felt a sudden stab of pain over his cheekbone. Alistair got in a few good hits during that tumble down the hill.

Vash soon got to his feet and pushed Nathaniel back to his. "We need to keep moving." He hefted Alistair back over his shoulder, and once again began walking towards the light above.

"Is he dead?" Fenris asked, nodding towards Alistair. He walked beside Nathaniel, one hand on the man's back to help him keep his balance for the steep climb.

"No. The curse that happened to that one's arms happened to this one's whole body."

"That's magic for you."

Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder. There was still that buzz at the base of his skull. "There are still darkspawn nearby. Keep your wits about you."

Fenris nodded, drawing the blade from his back once more. He cast a sideways glance at Vash, and once again spoke quickly and quietly in the man's native tongue. The only words Nathaniel recognized were "qun" and "Tal Vashoth."

Vash shot the elf a dark look, and responded in the qunari language. "And again," the healer added, switching back to Fereldish, "you are being rude."

The elf fell silent, and in the break in conversation, breathing could be heard. It was a long, low, rumbling exhale from something big with big lungs. The men froze.

Fenris stepped away, quietly jogging the last few steps up the slope to the mouth of the cave. He ducked immediately, and quickly slid back down, looking slightly rattled. "Ogre."

"_What?_" Nathaniel hissed.

"There is an ogre. Standing at the mouth of the cave," Fenris whispered, continuing to slide down the hill, deeper into the cavern. "It wasn't there when I came in… There must be another way out."

"Can't you... distract it?" Nathaniel asked.

"Can't you?" The elf looked back up at him, brows lifted. "I don't think you comprehend how big that thing is and how small the opening to this cave is. It's... a red one."

A red ogre? "They don't come in red." Nathaniel paused, then crouched and crept up the hill, just high enough to see a pair of large, heavy horns. They were indeed painted red. Was it more blood? Nathaniel inched up higher to see the large ugly head of the thing completely covered with red. It snorted, shifting from one foot to the other. If he didn't know any better, Nathaniel would swear it was standing guard.

Shit. Nathaniel sat on his rear and slid back down the slope towards Vash and Fenris. "There is no other way out. The only thing you'll find in that direction is the Deep Roads and more darkspawn."

Fenris was staring up at the dangling bodies over the deep pool of blood. He turned his head and spat in disgust. "Then let us slay them on our way to kill this mage."

"My arms are wet noodles at the moment, I'm not in a fit state to slay anything!"

Fenris' shoulders sagged slightly. "A man without arms, a man without consciousness, and a man without a desire to fight." He shook his head, stepping cautiously around the pool. "Where is the rest of your party?"

Nathaniel tried to point, then grimaced when he remembered that he couldn't. "Down that tunnel there, the big one.

Vash followed, frowning, still with Alistair over his shoulder. "This is not a very good plan. Careful of the blood."

"An ogre is too much for one man," Nathaniel muttered, tiptoeing around the pool. Blood everywhere. He was no doubt going to be having blood soaked nightmares tonight. He jogged after the elf in the darkening tunnel, which was soon lit by glowing mushrooms on either side of the dirt floor. The dirt gave way to stone, the stone to brick, and they were in the Deep Roads.


	20. Chapter 20

Elissa was able to catch little glimpses of Paien ahead of them. She and Lindise had crossed from the cave into the Deep Roads not too long ago. The road was lined with ornate brick, hand carved from the stone by dwarves countless years ago. The roads opened up into a large, cavernous room filled with pillars, and little pools of water with glowing algae to illuminate the dark underground room.

Paien was at the far end of the room, and between him and Elissa were darkspawn. The creature's heads and faces were painted red, and they simply watched the old Warden pass before they turned their attention back to Elissa and Lindise. They snarled, banged shields on the ground, and began to advance.

Lindise sucked in a breath beside her, and she lifted up her arms. Bricks pulled themselves up from the road and began to stack up into a large, human form. She was making a golem.

Alistair had wanted to see her make a golem.

Elissa shook her head quickly. Focus. She drew out her twin blades and charged forward. She could hear thundering steps as Lindise's magic sent a stone warrior into battle at her heels.

Why had the darkspawn let Paien past? Elissa drove one sword into the collarbone of a darkspawn, twisting it to sever nerves and arteries. They needed to catch up with him. "Paien!"

The stone brick golem was smashing darkspawn into jelly, and Lindise hung back, carefully controlling its actions by swinging her arms and kicking her feet. She cried out for Paien as well, as the golem picked up one of the smaller darkspawn and pulled its arms off as if plucking petals from a daisy.

That was handy magic. Not perfect, of course. Controlling her golem left Lindise vulnerable and distracted. Elissa stepped to one side to keep the mage protected, and into the swing of a darkspawn mace. She grunted as a mace struck her gut and stumbled back with the impact. She heard the whiz of an arrow a moment before she felt the second dig into the back of her knee.

Lindise cried out in pain as well as another darkspawn bowman struck her with an arrow in the side. She swung her arms out, and the golem did the same, knocking the archers from their perches and stomping on their heads.

Very handy magic indeed.

Elissa had lost count of how many darkspawn she killed. Perhaps it was the Warden in her taking over, but she simply turned into a machine, despite the pain from injuries. It felt familiar, a strange sense of comfort. Her sword just always seemed to know where to strike, and it almost always found its mark.

By the time the darkspawn were dead, Elissa was breathless and Lindise was exhausted. Her golem fell to pieces, making a pile of bricks on the floor, and the mage herself crumpled into a similar pile.

"There will be more," Lindise said weakly, getting back to her feet. "There are always more..." She sucked in a deep breath and called out, "Paien!"

Elissa dug into her pack for a healing poultice and gulped it down.

The mage turned back to her, "We can't stop! He was just ahead of us!"

Elissa lowered her bottle and blinked at the woman. "We need to stop and catch our breath, Lindise. You're bleeding, take a poultice. And some lyrium." She dug out a second bottle and held it out to her.

"Paien was... just ahead of us. He's alone, all these darkspawn..."

"The darkspawn were ignoring him, Lindise." She grasped the mage's wrist and pressed the bottle into her palm. "And we are no help to him when wounded. Drink. Now."

Lindise frowned down at the red bottle in her hand, but nodded and pulled the cork. "Do you think they got out all right?" she asked in a small voice.

Elissa straightened, feeling the warmth of the healing potion spread through her body as the pain faded. "I think we need to remain focused on our task. Can the three of us take on Sabinia?"

"Not easily." Lindise drained the red bottle before uncorking a blue.

Elissa nodded, "Then we shall secure Paien and convince him to leave with us. The desire to finish a task should not trump the need to do it properly and without needless casualties."

"You sound like Paien," Lindise said with a soft sad chuckle. She sucked in a breath and rose back to her full height. "I'm ready." She paused, "And I apologize for... losing my head a bit."

Elissa locked eyes with the slight elfin mage for a moment. "You know, I meant to ask you about Paien, and I never had the chance to. Now I have no need to. It's very clear how highly you think of him. How much you admire him."

Lindise blinked in surprise, then dropped her gaze. "Well, I-"

"Elissa!"

The two women turned to the voice. Jogging up the tunnel was Nathaniel, his arms crossed over his chest and held in place with bandages. Behind him was the tattooed elf they'd met in Bisbeck, and at the rear was Vash with the still unconscious Alistair slung over his shoulder.

"Nathaniel!" Elissa jogged towards them with wide eyes. "I told you-"

"There was an ogre blocking the entrance. We couldn't get out. Where's Paien?" Nathaniel's gaze wandered over the piles of dead darkspawn.

"Just ahead of us. An ogre?" Elissa arched a brow at the newcomer, "So... you changed your mind, I see?"

The elf shrugged, "I bore easily."

"Fenris, this is Elissa and that is Lindise." Nathaniel nodded to the mage.

Fenris stared at Lindise for a long moment, his eyes narrowed. But he said nothing, only walked past them and nudged at dead darkspawn with his toe.

Elissa moved closer to Vash, stepping around him to study Alistair's face. "No change?"

"None." The kossith shook his head and shifted the warrior's dead weight on his shoulder. "We can take a moment, feed him some poultices, try some healing oils."

She turned to look at Lindise, who nodded. "Yes," Elissa said, "quickly."

Vash settled Alistair on a low bench to the side of the road and propped him into a sitting position with his usual care. He dug into a bag and fished out a pair of bottles, one of which he tossed to Lindise. "Try rubbing that on Nathaniel's arms, see if it has any effect."

She nearly dropped it, but after a bit of fumbling, Lindise managed to get a grip on the little yellow bottle and turned to face Nathaniel. The bandages were unwrapped to let his arms fall limp. Lindise quickly shook a few drops onto her palm from the bottle, filling the air with the scent of rosemary and tart hawthorn berries. Nathaniel sighed and tipped his head back, letting Lindise vigorously rub the solution into his arms. "I can't even feel that..."

Lindise's mouth twisted up in a grimace, "It's blood magic. I wish I could do something... So foolish of me to continue to be so afraid of blood magic, even now that I'm outside the Circle. But I suppose it's a good thing, isn't it? With how _she_ turned out." Her head shook a little, "Paien told me I was powerful enough, not to risk myself by studying it. But now…"

Nathaniel was quiet, staring at the dome rock ceiling carved out by dwarves countless years ago. Finally he said in a very low voice, "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

The elf blinked and stared at him, color flooding her face. She scowled quickly and returned to her task with a bit of agitation. "And you are in love with her."

"Mm," Nathaniel said by way of not exactly confirming her statement. He watched Elissa from the corner of his eyes, bent over Alistair while Vash fed him poultices and attempted his oil rubs. "Nothing is keeping you from getting what you want."

"Don't be ridiculous. You don't know the first thing..." She stopped herself, then huffed, "He is my commander, and a great deal older than me. What's more, he..." She frowned and rocked back, corking the bottle. "He has someone."

"And it's not you?"

"It's not me."

"The worst kind of ache."

"Yes," Lindise said. She leaned forward and began to wrap him up again in the bandages. "We need to find him."

Nathaniel tried wiggling his fingers. Nothing. He sighed and nodded, gazing down the road before he looked back at the others. "Are we ready?"

Elissa remained crouched over the unconscious Alistair, concern lining her face. She looked at Nathaniel, "It's not safe for you to remain here, is it?" She swallowed and rose. "Stay close to Vash. Lindise, can you make another golem to walk with us? Another means of protection?"

Lindise nodded, waving her hands, "I can continue to control a golem as long as the lyrium holds out."

"Fenris and Vash, be careful of the blood. Avoid it if you can. Stay close, keep weapons drawn. We are to secure Paien and retreat."

Fenris turned and gave her a dark look, "What about the mage?"

"Another day when we don't have so many injured and incapacitated," Elissa responded. "He headed northward. Let's move, quickly."


	21. Chapter 21

The large room led to another narrow tunnel with a low ceiling. Vash had to stoop, and grimaced as he was forced to carry Alistair like a sleeping child. Elissa walked quickly at the lead with Fenris at the rear. The little hallway was dangerous. There was no room to maneuver or escape.

Finally, the narrow, dwarf sized tunnel opened up once more to reveal a narrow stone bridge spanning a deep chasm. On the opposite side of the bridge there was a tall circular structure, a huge stalactite the size of a castle spire, hanging from the ceiling and disappearing into the canyon below. The structure was dotted with small windows and ornate carvings, and the bridge led to a small door carved into the face of it.

Paien stood at the bridge, gripping a pillar and staring straight ahead.

Lindise broke into a run towards him, and the golem she'd been controlling collapsed. "Paien!" she called in a loud whisper.

The elder Warden turned slightly, and took hold of Lindise's hand once she was close enough. "They've been letting me through," he said, voice a low rumble. He sounded almost lost and confused. "The darkspawn. They've been letting me through. Opening a path to me."

Lindise blinked at him and squeezed his hand tightly. "Paien, we need to leave, you know that."

He shook his head. "She's there." He pointed to the opposite side of the bridge. "I... regained enough of myself to know not to go in alone. That's what she wants."

"We have injured, Paien," Elissa stepped forward and motioned to Alistair, slumped once more over Vash's shoulder. "We are leaving."

Paien looked at her, and his gaze regained some clarity as he pulled himself up a bit taller. "We can win this fight with what we have."

Nathaniel's teeth gritted, "I don't know what's gotten into you, _Commander_." He gave the word a hard tone to remind Paien of himself. "But I think we've gotten ourselves far enough into this mess. We need to escape while we still can."

"Leave him, if he won't listen to reason," Fenris spoke up, squinting across the bridge. "The three of us should be enough to kill the ogre that keeps us here."

"And the four of us should be enough to take her on!" Paien insisted. "Please. Please!"

A low, long howl rose goosebumps on Elissa's flesh. A woman's voice, moaning out across the chasm. Elissa stepped back towards the tunnel, her eyes locked on the little doorway on the other side.

The door had opened.

"Paien," Elissa murmured, "you must know this is a trap."

No sooner had she spoken than the squeals of darkspawn and the heavy fall of hammers could be heard. They spun to see two darkspawn at the far end of the narrow tunnel, hammering away at a wall. The stone began to crumble, and glowing hot liquid trickled out of the cracks.

Nathaniel's eyes widened, and he backed away onto the bridge, "What in the Void…?"

One final blow of the hammer, and the wall gave way. Lava oozed out, and the darkspawn in its path burst into flames, their giggles turning into screams.

There was no further hesitation. The party ran across the bridge as the lava seeped down the tunnel towards them. The dwarves kept molten rock in various foundries; there must have been an old reservoir on the other side of the tunnel. Elissa watched Paien sprint across the bridge, and duck through the little doorway.

She glanced over her shoulder to see the lava pouring out over the edge of the opposite platform and into the chasm. Even from her safe distance, the heat was intense. She shielded her face from the heat with her arm, gaze sliding to Alistair, still slumped over Vash's shoulder. Beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead.

There was nowhere else to go. There was no point in fighting the inevitability of the encounter with the blood mage. Elissa took another few steps away from the bridge, exchanged looks with the others, then turned and followed Paien through the door.


	22. Chapter 22

They stepped into a large, circular room. Light spilled onto the floor from a series of hanging lanterns burning with magical blue flame. Against the walls were a series of empty elevated platforms, places where the dwarves of old could watch the proceedings below.

In the center of the room was a large, stone throne. In front of the throne stood Sabinia.

Elissa was expecting an older woman, someone Paien's age. The woman before her was a young woman who only appeared aged through destitution and self neglect. Sabinia was rail thin, and her arms and legs looked as though they could snap from the slightest tap. Black hair was long and matted at the tips with dried blood. The original color of her robes was difficult to determine under the layers of dirt, filth, and blood.

But despite her disheveled appearance, Sabinia's dark little eyes were sharp. They followed Paien as he moved closer and fell to his knees before her. "There you are, my darling," she murmured as she rested a thin hand on the crown of his head.

"You need to stop this, Sabinia, you know you need to stop this…" the elder Warden mumbled with a bowed head.

Sabinia's gaze focused on the others in the room as swords were cautiously drawn. She studied the unconscious Alistair, then Nathaniel with interest. "You were meant to come alone. That pool was for you, not them." She lifted her staff.

Nathaniel let out a startled cry. His arms were moving of their own accord, twisting out of their binds and snatching the bow from his back. He stumbled backwards as his hands knocked an arrow in the bow and aimed it at Lindise. "What the-?!"

Likewise, Alistair was moving as well, kicking himself out of Vash's grip and scampering away to Sabinia's side. A moment later his blade was in his hand, vacant expression on his face as he stood between the mage and the Wardens.

"She's controlling them!" Fenris sneered, shifting his gaze from Nathaniel to Alistair warily. "Damned, filthy magic!"

The blood pool. The blood splattered darkspawn, had she been controlling them as well? Elissa lifted her chin as her eyes caught movement. On the various platforms above, darkspawn had to begun to appear. Crude bows were lifted in dirty hands, fat arrows pointed in her direction.

Paien, still kneeling on the floor, stared up at Sabinia, a bit slack jawed. "You're so young…"

"Again, the pool was meant for you." The mage looked back down at him, slipping her lean frame further behind Alistair's broad form. "The things that blood magic can do, can _really_ do… Imagine, avoiding the effects of the Taint, ignoring the Calling, staying young and bright forever… You and I, my sweet, sweet Paien."

Nathaniel continued to back away, but his arms were out of his control and continued to aim an arrow at the party. No matter how he twisted or turned his body, his arms would quickly twist and turn back towards their mark. "What have you done to us?" he growled.

Sabinia lifted a brow. "I cannot restore youth to two men who already possess it, now can I? No. Your… intrusion was unwelcome, but not unexpected. Your bodies are mine. Or parts of, in your case. Now stop fidgeting or I'll loose that arrow into the girl's pretty breasts," she said, nodding towards Lindise.

Lindise stood trembling with rage. "Paien," she hissed. "Paien, we came to kill her, get up!"

Sabinia's thin, filthy hand rested atop Paien's bowed head. "I claimed his heart and his mind years ago. He gave both willingly. You can have neither."

Elissa stepped carefully to the side, and Fenris slowly did the same in the opposite direction. Sabinia was controlling Alistair, using him as a shield. If they could flank her...

Elissa glanced to Nathaniel. His arrow was following Fenris. The tip of Alistair's blade, however, was following her. "Alistair, can you hear me?"

The man's face held no expression, though the muscles around his eyes trembled. He grunted, then lunged at her as she drew too close. The movement was slow, clumsy. Alistair was never terribly quick with his fighting, but he certainly was more graceful and powerful than that. Elissa jumped back, "Damn it! Release them!"

Sabinia lowered to sit beside Paien, arms draped about him as she stroked his ears. "Do you remember?" she murmured to him. "I said I always wanted to know where you were, and that you were safe... and you gave me just a little blood. You remember that, don't you? I kept it, darling, my darling. And when I had to flee, I used it."

Paien kneeled passively before her, shaking his head in confusion. "I don't..."

"I know the Calling is nipping at your heels, too. They've tainted the pool I made for us, but we can use them to make another."

Fenris turned the blade in his hands, watching Nathaniel cautiously. "I can knock that out of your hands."

"With a blade that size, you'll take my hands off."

"You underestimate my ability."

"Look at how I am holding the bow, elf."

Fenris frowned, and still pointing the flat of the blade towards Nathaniel to deflect any arrows, he looked at the man's hands. "What about it?"

"You ever fired an arrow?"

"Poorly."

Elissa glanced over at Nathaniel. His arm was rigid, and the hand holding the arrow was pulled back towards his armpit.

Not his cheek. He always pulled his arrow back to his cheek, and his arm was never tense. Always light and effortless. Sabinia wasn't lining up his arrow correctly, and her control of Alistair was clumsy. She had no idea how to control these men. Her control of the darkspawn was different. Those she merely pointed in the desired direction.

For Nathaniel and Alistair, however, she required full control. Like flesh golems. "Fenris, step back," she barked.

The elf stared at her a moment in disbelief, "Really?"

The farther his target, the worse his already poor aim would be. Nathaniel was also backing away with cautious steps.

The stone ground trembled as Lindise stepped forward. Pebbles buzzed and twirled as she moved, red faced and furious. "Enough of this, Sabinia! You've gone truly mad!"

For the next few seconds, several things happened all at once. Sabinia leapt to her feet and lifted her staff. She pointed it at the advancing Lindise. Lindise began to pull up the stone floor by lifting her own staff. Vash, who had been hanging back, jogged towards the thin little elf.

Arrows flew. Vashoth stumbled back as the darkspawn arrowed peppered his chest. Nathaniel's arrow flew far to the left, bouncing off a wall.

Lindise was lifted up into the air with a gurgle. Sabinia's eyes flashed, and she whipped her staff to one side. Lindise's arms spread and her head tipped back. Wounds burst open at her wrists like strained seams. Blood began to pour out of the young woman, and red streams wove through the air like smoke, swirling around the blood mage.

Elissa moved, slamming her body into Alistair, shoving him into Sabinia. Under his weight, the blood mage was bowled over and let out a shriek. Lindise fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.

The darkspawn on the platforms had knocked more arrows and began raining them down again. Fenris shielded himself with his sword, while Elissa dashed to the side in an attempt to avoid them. There had to be a stairway or a ramp, something to lead her up towards the archers. Her team was down to herself and Fenris now. No way of engaging the enemy at long range, not with Lindise down bleeding and Nathaniel under Sabinia's control.

As she was searching the room, the stone platforms began to crack. Elissa jumped back in alarm as the thick stone came crashing down, bringing the darkspawn archers down with them. She spun to see Lindise, on the ground and bleeding heavily, grabbing at the air with her hands and magically pulling the platforms down.

Vash was crawling towards her, a healing potion in hand. He was bleeding as well. Several of the darkspawn arrows had dug deep, and he was pushing towards Lindise to give her a healing potion rather than take one himself.

Elissa gritted her teeth and stepped back to protect them. "Fenris!" she shouted, pointing at the darkspawn still alive and moving under the rubble of the collapsed platforms. He nodded once and leapt after them.

Sabinia pushed Alistair off her, groaning in pain as she got back to her feet. Alistair scrambled up as well, clumsily, and thrust his blade in Elissa's direction. Elissa feinted and avoided the attack easily. She needed to get to Sabinia before she attempted that blood draining trick again.

She felt an arrow whiz past her cheek, as the controlled Nathaniel missed his target yet again.

"You fools," Sabinia hissed, cupping her arm to her chest. It must have snapped under Alistair's weight. "You should be grateful… your sacrifice… will grant us immortality… Think of how powerful the Wardens will be when we are no longer slaves to the Old Gods!" She dropped to sit in the throne, and Paien crawled after her on his hands and knees. "We shall be the masters... we shall be the Gods," she went on. She stroked his cheek and left a neat smear of Lindise's blood.

"That did not end well for the last mage who tried it, Sabinia." Elissa spun her blade in her palm and stepped closer.

"I can summon a demon to kill you, you know," the mad mage tilted her head. "Hundreds of them. The secrets they have whispered to me... Your Qunari friend over there has more than enough blood to bring them forth."

Elissa didn't take her eyes off Sabinia to look at Vash, and she could hear the clanging of steel as Fenris continued to engage the darkspawn. "He's not a Warden. Surely, Warden blood is a far better resource than Qunari blood."

Sabinia's eyebrows quirked. "Are you volunteering?"

"You said it yourself. I should be grateful. Proud to spill my blood to uplift the Grey Wardens." Elissa spread her arms and dropped her blades. They struck the stone floor with loud, echoing bangs.

"No." Elissa glanced at Paien, who was on his feet now. "No," he said again, "no, Sabinia. Lindy… what have you done?"

Sabinia rose with narrowed eyes, her hand out to hush Paien. "This is a trick."

Elissa spread her arms and stood still. Across the room, Fenris fell silent as the last darkspawn was slain.

Paien slipped past them, crouching down beside the bleeding Lindise. Elissa's eyes never left the blood mage. "Sabinia, stop. It's time to stop," Paien said, his voice weary. "It's time to stop fighting and... accept what we knew was our fate."

Sabinia stepped to the side to follow him, placing herself between Elissa and Alistair, who stood perfectly still under her spell, sword raised. Her voice shifted from screeching anger to despair in mere seconds. "Accept our fate? I never accepted it. Always fight it. Always. This is worth fighting for. You! You are worth fighting for, Paien!"

Elissa sprang forward, barreling into Sabinia. She shoved her backwards into Alistair, sinking his blade through her back, through her kidney, and out her stomach. The blood mage's eyes grew wide, and Alistair's hand snapped out to grab her by the shoulder and pull her deeper into his blade.

The spell was broken. Elissa stepped back to fetch her blades again and looked up to see an arrow between Sabinia's eyes. Nathaniel lowered his bow and met Elissa's gaze.

Paien shuddered and let out a haunting cry. He doubled over, trembling. "Maker…"

For the first time, Elissa saw that Vash wasn't moving. He lay beside Lindise, healing potion still in his hand. Lindise lay pale and bleeding with terrified eyes open and fixed on Paien.

"Help!" she called out as she plucked the bottle from him, rolling Vash onto his back to pour it down his gullet.

Alistair kicked Sabinia from his sword, then gagged and bent over, vomiting on the stone floor. He dropped his sword and heaved a few times, hands on his knees. "Andraste's boots, I swallowed some…" he gurgled.

Fenis scampered over to the dead Sabinia, and removed her head to make sure she was dead.

Nathaniel quickly kneeled beside Elissa and dug through Vash's things for more healing potions. "She's dying."

Paien seemed to have recovered some of himself, and placed his hands over her wounds. "That won't… that won't help her now." He sucked in a breath, "Give me his dagger."

Lindise's eyes widened even further, voice weak, "No…"

"Paien," Elissa began.

"Give it to me!" he demanded. Nathaniel slipped the little enchanted blade from Vash's belt and dropped it in Paien's palm.

"No…" Lindise whispered. "Paien, no…"

"Let him go." Alistair straightened and stepped closer. "I feel as though I've been shouting that at you this whole time. Just… let him go." He locked eyes with Elissa for a moment, and then he kneeled at Paien's side. "I can help."

Paien hesitated, but placed the blade in Alistair's open hand.

"Paien…" Lindise whispered again, trembling as Paien took her bloody hand in his.

"Sh. It's going to be all right." The elder warden gave her a faint, sad smile. "You're doing me a kindness, before the Taint takes me completely."

Her head shook again as Alistair stood over him, blade in hand. "Close your eyes," he told her, and rested a hand on the back of Paien's head. "Ready?"

"Yes," he said. "Thank you."

The younger Warden paused, his lips set in a grim line. The blade swung across Paien's throat, then down towards Lindise. Just as Vash had done, the blade missed her by inches, but splattered her with Paien's blood. Alistair quickly pulled Paien back to that his body would not drop on the trembling elf.

The magical cuts along her arms began to close up, and she gained the strength enough to choke out a sob, rolling onto her side. As she continued to heal, the sobs turned into wails, and Alistair slipped closer to gather her up in a bear hug, holding and rocking her as she screamed.


	23. Chapter 23

They made camp in the dim glow of flowing lava. They needed time to rest, heal, and find an alternative exit. Nathaniel slid Sabinia and Paien to a far corner of the room, laying them side by side, hidden from view by piles of rubble from the platforms. This section of the Deep Roads was nothing but empty rooms of stone. With nothing to burn, a funeral pyre was not possible, and no one wanted to ask Lindise to conjure flames.

When the tents had been struck, Alistair accepted a drink from Fenris' skin, then coughed and sputtered when its contents hit his mouth.

Fenris arched a brow, "Not the best quality, I know."

"No. I was expecting water. That is exactly when I need right now." He wiped his lips and took another swig before handing it back. "Thank you. Give some to Lindise, she could do with a little fuzzying, I'm certain."

The lean elf studied Lindise, who sat beside Vash with her knees to her chest. The kossith sipped at a bottle of healing potion, his massive frame still dotted with pits from the darkspawn arrows. In his low, calm voice, he was telling the woman an old elven legend about lost halla finding their way home.

"Mm. Is life always like this for Wardens?" Fenris glanced back at Alistair curiously.

"No. Usually not. Usually we answer the Calling without-"

"But the rules don't apply to a Tevinter blood mage," Fenris sneered. "Why would your kind recruit such a creature?"

Alistair's mouth hung open while he searched for an answer. "I didn't know her," he said at last. "But Paien did. And he was a good man."

The elf gave the human a dubious look.

"We don't judge," Alistair told him. "Blood mages, thieves, bastards, mercenaries, apostates…" He paused, and then added with a faint smile, "Anyone with the skill and mettle to take up the sword against the darkspawn is welcome among us."

"I can see that policy is working out very well for you," Fenris muttered as he walked away.

Alistair slipped out of the ruined throne room and onto the platform outside. There Elissa sat on the edge, staring at the still glowing rocks on the other side of the narrow stone bridge.

"Will you be all right?" she asked.

Alistair looked at Elissa at her question, brows quirked. He let out a long breath and hung his head. "I've never-…" He grimaced and sat beside her on the edge of the crevasse, their feet hanging over into nothingness. "My mind keeps going back to Duncan," he finally admitted. "The death he chose. And then I feel guilty about mourning Duncan instead of Paien, and then I feel guilty for… doing it."

Elissa slipped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Do you think we'll end up like them?"

"I don't know," Elissa answered truthfully. "It's not anything I enjoy giving much thought to."

"I suppose I pictured us facing the Void together. Hand in hand, plunging into the Deep Roads. You don't see that often, Wardens answering the Calling in groups. Even those who underwent the Joining together, who lived long enough… it never happens at the same time." He paused. "We don't get happily ever afters."

"No," Elissa answered in a small voice as she hugged his broad arm closer. "No, we do not."

"And," he went on with a sigh, "I know that I should let you go, too."

The words felt like a knife slid between her ribs and into her heart.

"That's what Wynne was on about, right? We are Grey Wardens. Duty will always come first." He managed to keep his voice low and steady somehow, which surprised him. "Losing you is my greatest fear… but I don't want to be a coward for the rest of my life." Alistair turned to look down at her. "I'm… letting you go to choose. Whatever it is you need to do. Whatever your decision is. I love you and I trust you."

Her hands slid up to cup his face, and gingerly she kissed the cuts and bruises on his cheeks, his brow, his chin. "We don't get happily ever afters. All we get is happily right now."

Alistair wrapped her up in his powerful arms and kissed her.

"I love you," she said some time later, breathless and eager for more kisses. "Can you forgive me? For being so foolish and terrified and just so… paralyzed?"

"I forgive you," he answered with a faint smile and his forehead resting against hers. "But we both-"

"Commander."

Elissa blinked a few times and lifted her head to see Nathaniel standing in the small dwarven doorway. She rose, pulling Alistair to his feet. He tried to wave her away to see to her men and her duty, but her grip on his hand remained tight as she pulled him along. Nathaniel Howe was referring to her as Commander. This was Warden business. Alistair was to be included.

Nathaniel nodded to Alistair with a questioning look that asked, _are you all right?_ Or it could have asked _are WE all right?_ When Alistair nodded back, Nathaniel turned his attention to Elissa. "We need to discuss Vashoth."

Elissa frowned and looked over the bowman's shoulder at the kossith. He still sat beside Lindise, who was clutching Fenris' wineskin. He quietly corked an empty healing potion and began digging in his bag for another.

Alistair's brow wrinkled. "He's been drinking those for an hour now, hasn't he?"

Elissa closed her eyes and hung her head once the realization hit her. "He's feeling the effects of the Taint."

Alistair hissed out a curse while Nathaniel nodded.

At length, Elissa asked what they had all been thinking, "Is he Warden material?"

"He can't fight," Nathaniel said in a low voice.

"He can learn," Alistair countered.

"Has there ever been a qunari Warden?" Elissa asked.

Alistair grimaced and shifted from foot to foot, "No. The qunari appeared _after_ the last Blight. And recruiting one means turning him away from the Qun…"

"Which Vash has already done," Elissa said.

"He enjoys living free from purpose," Nathaniel arched a brow.

"He enjoys living," Alistair said as if correcting Nathaniel. "Why are you against the idea? He saved your life."

"I am not against it," Nathaniel answered in his low, calm voice. "I am trying to assure that we don't make a rash decision."

Elissa shook her head and raised her hands, "None of this means anything if we can't make the Joining elixir."

"Neither of you knows how?" Nathaniel asked in surprise. When they both shook their heads, his gaze turned to Lindise.

The slight elf leaned against the massive kossith, in the midst of a quiet conversation, "-to meet him. Well. No one really likes Cruso," she said. "So I suppose I should say that he should like to meet you."

At this, the big man smiled faintly. "Why does no one like him?"

"He isn't fond of being liked."

Nathaniel let out a long breath, "How long do we have?"

"A few days," Alistair said with a frown. "Maker, what a mess this whole thing is."

"We accomplished what we set out to do," Elissa said. She motioned the men to follow with a flick of her fingers, and she walked towards the doomed Vashoth.


	24. Chapter 24

The silence lasted far longer than was comfortable for anyone.

Lindise, eager for something to do and enjoying a bit of a buzz from Fenris' wine, dug through Paien's pack. She broke the silence by holding up a bottle the size of a man's fist. "Found it."

All eyes turned on the bottle. The glass was black, the contents a mystery. Lindise retook her seat beside Vashoth, conjuring flames at her fingertips and turning the bottle over the heat.

"Always prepared," Lindise murmured with a sad smile.

"You have a choice, Vashoth," Elissa told him for what must have been the third time.

The man, bigger than Alistair, Nathaniel, and Fenris put together, stared Elissa Cousland down, his mouth a thin, grim line. "This is what the Wardens call a choice?"

Fenris shook his head, leaning on his blade in the doorway. "I find this all fascinating."

Alistair held up his hands, "I know, it's not ideal. Nothing has been ideal, but we're trying to help you."

"Are you even certain I have contracted this Taint?" Vash whirled on him, yellow eyes furious.

"Are the healing elixirs bringing you any relief?" Nathaniel arched a brow at him.

"Once you have made your decision, know that is it final," Elissa tried to meet the former qunari's gaze with no luck. "But I am giving you the option to choose, not everyone-"

Vashoth laughed, and it was a hard, angry sound. "My choice! Duty or death!" He flung his pack across the room, potions rattling and rolling everywhere. "I may as well be back with the qunari!"

Fenris rolled his eyes and muttered, "Tal-Vashoth."

The huge kossith turned on him, his big voice shaking the room, "_I am not Tal-Vashoth!_"

Fenris remained calm, but stood a bit taller and slipped his blade back into its sheath at his back. "You keep saying that." He flung his hand at Vash to motion at his cropped horns, "You may not kill those who follow the Qun, but you are quick to heal its enemies. You rebel against it as hard as any True Grey mercenary."

Vash rocked back on his heels, eyes wide in shock, "You, little elf. You know nothi-" "So you'll accept death before anything that remotely resembles the Qun? On principle?" Fenris tilted his head. "Tal-Vashoth or Vashoth Warden?" He shook his head, "Stop pretending you're so noble. You're a healer. This death of yours? Saves no one." He bowed slightly to Elissa, "I'll stop ignoring your request for me to leave now." With that, he turned on a heel and disappeared through the doorway, closing the door behind him.

Vashoth stood still and silent with a tight angry jaw. He drew in a deep breath, and suddenly doubled over with a coughing fit. Once he caught his breath, he accepted Alistair's offered water skin and drank greedily from it. Finally, he said, "You claim that this is not a cure."

"And... it may not even work," Nathaniel said almost apologetically.

"Then why choose me? I am no warrior."

"The Wardens need healers. Obviously. We hired you," Alistair offered a weak smile. "And come on, we've all seen you wield that dagger, don't pretend you don't know how to look after yourself in the thick of battle."

"And you are a good man," Lindise added with slightly slurred speech as she still turned the mysterious bottle over her flaming fingers. "This whole time... you've only been concerned about the victims. The weak, the hurt, the lost." Her gaze focused on Vash. "I don't want you to die. It's worth trying, at least."

Vash crouched with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He let out a long, low exhale as his hands slid over his trimmed horns. He straightened and turned to Elissa. "Let us begin."

Elissa nodded once. "Lindise, how soon until that is ready?"

Lindise blinked a few times. "Hm? Oh, it's been ready. I just remember thinking at my Joining, this would go down so much easier if it was warm. A hefty spoonful of honey wouldn't hurt, either." She pulled off the loosened cork and offered the bottle to Elissa.

The black glass warmed her cold hands, and she drew in a deep breath as she turned to the former qunari. "Join us, brothers and sisters." The other Wardens joined her with low, solemn voices in a somber chorus. "Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten... and that one day, we shall join you."

Vashoth took the bottle with a wary expression, narrowed eyes on Elissa's face. He lifted it to his lips and took a slow swallow. He quickly handed the bottle back with an expression of disgust, arm covering his mouth as he coughed. The thickness had surprised her, as well, and the mix of archdemon blood, darkspawn blood, lyrium, and other herbs in Paien's back, held close for just such an emergency, must have been months old.

The Wardens stepped back as Vash fell onto all fours, coughing and struggling to breathe. Every time she witnessed the Joining, Elissa relived it. The burning cold spreading over her whole body. The uncontrollable shaking. The images. Maker, the nightmarish images that nearly made her scream out loud in pure terror. Death and darkspawn, demons and dragons and all consuming flame.

Finally, Vash collapsed face first onto the stone floor, and the Wardens nearly stumbled over one another to check if he survived. Alistair got to him first and rested a hand on his throat. What was possibly a few seconds silence stretched on for ages. Alistair closed his eyes and let out a sound of relief. "He lives."

Elissa tilted her head back and felt the worry melt off her shoulders. Exhaustion settled in its place like a heavy old coat. She closed her eyes and declared, "I am _not_ taking the first watch."


	25. Chapter 25

The Deep Roads didn't have any concept of day or night. Nathaniel had traveled the Deep Roads with Sigrun and Oghren, and they always seemed to know the exact hour. Oghren called it _stone sense_. If he had to guess, Nathaniel would say it was currently close to midnight, judging only from his own weariness. The Commander had decided not to take the first watch, so he had volunteered.

A trying day. A trying journey, all put together. He was eager to get back to the surface, to put as much distance between himself and this place as possible. Distancing himself from his feelings for Elissa Cousland would also be recommended.

He tested the stretch of his arm with an empty bow, making sure all his feeling and ability had returned when he heard Alistair say, "Were you ever going to wake me up to change shifts?"

Nathaniel relaxed his arm and glanced over at the younger man. The pair of them stood at the narrow stone bridge over the endless chasm, and led to a path that no longer offered a way out. "I didn't feel it was necessary yet."

Alistair shrugged a little, "Paien wouldn't ever wake me up, either. He wasn't eager to go back to sleep. Nightmares, I think."

Nathaniel arched a brow, "I am not having nightmares."

"No, I didn't mean to imply-..." he trailed off and sighed before shifting topics with a faint grin, "Vashoth is still out like a light. Not looking forward to when he wakes up and gets hungry. If I thought I ate a lot the first breakfast after my Joining, I don't want to see what a man that size can put away. I doubt we brought enough rations." He turned a crooked smile on Nathaniel and was met with stony silence. After an awkward pause, he pushed forward with still more forced conversation. "Did yours go all right? Your Joining? It's odd, but I think that's become my favorite part, helping the new Wardens through it all. I suppose with Elissa-"

"What are you doing?" Nathaniel asked with a small shake of his head.

Without missing a beat, Alistair answered, "Fumbling my way towards an apology for giving you that shiner. And being a general ass. It was entirely uncalled for. Our Commander trusts you, and I should have as well, without question."

Nathaniel's dark gaze flitted to their shared tent. "Did she ask you to do this?"

"No," Alistair said, looking mildly offended. "I'm trying to be mature about this, if you hadn't noticed. Humor me."

The corner of Nathaniel's mouth tugged up as he looked back at Alistair. "All right."

"Right," he said with a slight nod. "So. I'm sorry for punching you. Many many times. And... you're... sorry for trying to steal what was mine?"

"Your razor."

"My razor."

Nathaniel studied the man a long, quiet moment. There was no threat in his tone. No posturing, no marking of territory, no bravado. It appeared to be an honest attempt to make peace, and to understand where they stood. "I am sorry for trying to steal your razor."

His face split into a boyish grin, and he swept his hands in front of him as if wiping a table clean. "Excellent. I still can't find it, though; I think you dropped it when I hit you in the mouth. Which I am sorry for. But, you know, I'm over it. No grudge."

Nathaniel nodded slowly. "Right."

Alistair sat on the edge of the bridge and drummed his hands on his knees, "Say, do you mind if I asked you something? Without any sort of offense meant?"

"Hard to say without knowing the question."

"Right. Well. Your father."

Nathaniel's brows arched up near his hairline.

"I'm genuinely curious to know what he was like. All I've got in my head is this villainous caricature, you know? Never met the man before… that one time we met him."

Nathaniel smirked and nudged at a pebble with the end of his bow, "She's good at picking up colleagues with daddy issues, isn't she?"

Alistair's eyes widened, "I was going to say the same exact thing!"

"Did you ever meet your father?"

Alistair's mouth twisted up as he squinted at the wall. "Ah, well. I don't know. I don't really recall. A few times. I guess." A beat of pause before he confessed, "Three times. Three times exactly."

Nathaniel slipped his bow onto his back and leaned against a pillar with crossed arms. "And?"

He drew in a deep breath with palms on his knees. "Once in Denerim. Twice at Redcliff. He used to stay there when he went hunting, you know? I was always so excited when he came. And first and foremost there was the fascination that he was king. But… to know who I was to him?" He smirked and lifted a shoulder, "And I was this stupid little boy, hardly more than a servant, really. Desperately hoping he'd notice me and say something, but he never did. So I convinced myself, well! He must not know I'm his son. But as soon as he does, he'll rescue me from all this and I'll live like a prince and we'll go hunting together and do all that father and son rubbish." Alistair rubbed a bit of dirt from his boot, "As I said, stupid little boy."

"What happened?"

"I met Cailan." Alistair looked up at him. "He was the king's son, not me. And the more I thought about that, the angrier I got. I decided that I was tired of waiting for him to see me, to acknowledge me. So I wrote out this incredibly juvenile letter telling Maric exactly who I was. I might have thrown in a few insults."

"Stupid little boy."

"Exactly. Thank the Maker I was idiotic enough to give it to Arl Eamon to pass along for me." He tilted his head, "It was only a matter of time before I was out of the kennel and off to the Chantry."

"And from there you joined the Wardens."

"Mmhm. And I just noticed you did a bang up job of avoiding my question about your own father. Well done! I nearly forgot that I even asked!"

Nathaniel smirked and stared out over the canyon. "My father," he said. "I think the most accurate thing anyone has said about Rendon Howe is that he was two-faced. He was one way with us, and another way with his political allies. He was a certain way with my brother, and a completely different way with me." He shook his head and rolled his eyes, "I was not the favored son."

"That can't have been easy."

"You know he wanted Highever. Before Loghain came to him, he was trying to arrange a marriage between my brother and Elissa. What his plans were beyond that, I don't like to imagine."

Alistair grimaced but said nothing.

"Anyhow," Nathaniel said with a shake of his head. "It took me some time to come around to the fact that I don't need to try and impress him anymore. First off, he's dead. Second off, he was a murderer and a traitor."

"But he was still your father," Alistair said delicately.

"And I am my own man. Hanging onto the dead weight of an idealized and fallacious memory of him will only drown me like an anchor."

"And the only way to go is forward." Alistair cracked a grin. "Easier said than done, of course."

"That's putting it mildly," Nathaniel said with a chuckle.

Alistair's smile only widened at Nathaniel's small laugh. "I'm glad to have another brother Warden, I really am. We-... I honestly mean that."

"You're certain this isn't just some new tactic?" Nathaniel crossed his arms and arched a brow. "Trying to get my guard down? Killing me with kindness?"

"If you knew anything about me, you'd know I'm not a schemer. At all. The last time I attempted a nefarious plot, it involved a larder of shortcake and a very cross Chantry sister who caught me in the act before I even had the biscuits in my mouth. No." He shook his head. "No tactics. Complete and utter earnestness and honesty, I swear."

"Just like that? We're chums?"

Alistair sighed and shifted uncomfortably where he sat. "I was... holding a grudge for something you didn't do. But you pulled me out of that pool. We've fought, side by side. Spilled blood together. Lost a friend together, gained a brother. You watched out for Elissa when I couldn't. Kept her safe. She means the world to me, and.. and these are all things I should be thanking you for. In fact, I am. Thank you."

Nathaniel's brow knitted up. "You really mean all that, don't you?"

"I miss the Warden camaraderie back when I was a fresh recruit. More than anything. And this? This is our fate," Alistair said, motioning to the shadows about them, to the darkspawn blood that stained the floor, to the pile of stone and rubble that still concealed the bodies of Paien and Sabinia. "I don't want to be the jerk that makes the time we have now miserable. Do you?"

Nathaniel blinked at him, at a momentary loss for words. This was the man Elissa had chosen, it would seem. "I do not."

"Then again, it could be that the lack of sleep is making me loopy and sentimental," Alistair added with a grin. "I could very well go back to hating you once I've had a full forty winks."

Nathaniel bowed his head, "In that case, I shall make my retreat now before you come to your senses."

Elissa was well and truly lost to him, wasn't she? To try and pursue her now, after all this… Yes, he still felt for her, and that familiar ache returned as he slid into his bedroll. An ache that might never fade, truth be told. It was destined be more pain that he simply had to learn to live with. Another anchor to cut loose.


	26. Chapter 26

"We can't just… _leave_ them here."

Elissa looked up at Alistair from cramming her bedroll into her pack. How many times had she done this now? It never seemed to go in easily. Back in the day, she'd always handed it over to Zevran, who seemed to be an expert in all things bedroll related.

She stood and gnawed at her lower lip. The pair of bodies still lay in the corner of the throne chamber, now covered with twin blankets that were weighted down with stones. She sucked in a breath, "What do you suggest?"

"What do dwarves do with their dead?"

"They bury them," Nathaniel chimed in, slinging his pack over his shoulder.

"What, in the ground?" Alistair stared at him, appalled. "That's barbaric! We are not doing that."

"We're already in the ground," Fenris muttered, hovering in the doorway. He was clearly eager to leave. Of course, the way out of the Deep Roads was a mystery. The path they took in blocked by molten stone. The day was no doubt going to be spent looking for an alternative route.

"We're not burying them," Alistair repeated. "_The ground._ Darkspawn come out of the ground."

They heard a heavy sigh from Lindise. She only spoke once since they'd awoken and broken camp, to ask Fenris if he had any more wine. He'd informed her she'd already drunk it all the previous night.

The slender mage wiped her face, turned around, and lifted her staff. Instantly, the two bodies burst into magical flame.

Elissa stepped back in alarm, blinking at Lindise. "We should... say a few words..."

"He was a foolish man who should have seen this coming," Lindise muttered. "He was a hypocrite and... and a liar..." Her shoulders shook and her voice cracked. Vash rested a hand on her shoulder and pulled her closer to him.

"He was not without his flaws," Elissa said softly. "But he was a strong man, dedicated to the Wardens and those in his charge. I am richer for having known him."

"He lived up to our code, embodied everything a Warden should be," Alistair murmured. "In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice."

Nathaniel coughed and motioned at the ceiling. The domed ceiling of the ancient dwarven throne room was rapidly filling with choking black smoke. With no air flow, the smoke was quickly filling the room.

"Ah," Alistair said. "That would be why the dwarves bury their dead..."

With rattling armor, they quickly scuttled out of the throne room, shutting the door behind them.

"Right," Elissa said as she studied the platform and bridge. "The way we came is blocked. We'll need to start a systematic search for another exit. Together. We can follow this wall here-"

There was a loud boom, and earth and rock whizzed past their ears. Lindise stood in the middle of the bridge, and reached out into the air with her hand, making a fist. The rock and stone beside the flooded tunnel cracked and flew away, tumbling down into the crevasse in huge chunks. She was using her magic to dig. She swung her arms as more of the earth gave way, and within minutes, a fresh new tunnel had been dug beside the old one.

The mage looked over her shoulder at them, and frowned at Vash, who offered a lyrium potion. "I am not weak or delicate. And I will thank you not to treat me as such." She turned again and stepped through the opening she had just created.

Alistair blinked, "Were we…? I didn't think I was."

Elissa closed her eyes a brief moment, "Perhaps a little." She stepped through the portal to follow.

The return route was clear. It was still filled with darkspawn bodies, of course, and while they had been prepared for an ogre at the top of the steep climb to the entrance, none was there to greet them.

Elissa noted that Fenris looked disappointed. He slid his blade into its sheath on his back and turned to the Wardens. "You know the way back to Bisbeck, don't you?" He asked as if he didn't want to, as if the possibility existed that they might ask him for help, and he clearly did not want to supply it.

"Yes," Elissa said with a nod, "we know the way."

"Then I shall leave you."

"Here, take this," Alistair stepped forward with a purse in his hand. "We owe you a great deal more than this."

Fenris paused before he took the purse. He opened it, bow arching at the contents, and he quickly closed it and tucked it away.

"You're not returning with us?" Lindise asked.

"I was not planning to," he answered with a slight sigh. "And now that I find myself in possession of an adequate amount of coin, I think I will now turn south."

"Further from Tevinter," observed Nathaniel.

The tattooed elf nodded to him and bowed slightly. "While you seem like an honorable lot," his gaze lingered over Lindise, "I hope you'll understand if I never wish to meet a Grey Warden ever again."

Nathaniel let out a snort. "Trust me, we understand."

Fenris smiled crookedly, "Then may the road ever rise to meet your feet." He nodded once more to Elissa, lifted his head to check the position of the sun in the cloudless sky, and slipped off without another word, disappearing into a copse of fir trees to the south.

It was another few weeks before the Wardens arrived home, mostly without incident. There were bandits on the road, as always, quickly dispatched. Vash hung back, hesitant to engage in battle.

At camp, Alistair would often attempt to give him lessons in swordplay, borrowing one of Elissa's shorter, lighter blades. It was the closest they had to his dagger.

"We should get you a mace, or an axe. Something heavy," Alistair suggested one night as they clanged steel on a clear, moonless night. "Something that lets you use your size against them."

Vash merely frowned down at the blade. "I am a healer," he said.

"Yes, well..." Alistair rubbed the back of his head.

Nathaniel looked up from where he sat at the fire relacing his bracers. "You _were_ a healer. Now you're a Grey Warden."

Alistair grimaced at the Howe before he turned back to Vashoth, "And now your desire to aid people can be translated into killing the darkspawn that threaten them. Now. Thrust from the side. It's quicker. Like this."

The former qunari seemed to be transitioning to being a Warden just like any human, elf, or dwarf. He awoke every night with nightmares, but refused to comment on them. He was never a chatty man, but he was certainly more talkative and affable than Sten ever was.

With the Joining, that seemed to change. He became far more withdrawn, and his rare little smiles seemed to disappear altogether.

The ship that took them back across the sea to Amaranthine initially refused to allow the Vashoth to board.

"Nah, nah," said the ship's captain. He was a tall, underfed man with as many teeth as he had fingers, and in neither case were there as many as there should be. "I ain't havin' one of them ox-men on my ship. We'll all wake up with our throats slit!"

"If you had your throats slit, you wouldn't exactly be waking up, would you?" Alistair asked philosophically.

Lindise stared the captain down. "He is my brother Grey Warden, and you will permit him passage."

"You must be joking!"

Vash's eyes remained on the rolling sea when he finally chimed in, "I was on a boat once that was nearly captured by pirates. As they tried to board, I plucked them up off their ropes as if they were lice, crushed them in my hands and dropped them into the waters for the sharks to feed upon." His gray head turned to look at the captain. "I'm very good at keeping pirates away."

The captain stared up at him wide eyed. "Right. Well. Pirate deterrent. That seems fair. Welcome aboard."

Lindise eyeballed him once they had moved below decks and well out of the earshot of the crew.

At her look, Vash said simply, "That was a lie."

His words brought the first smile to her face since the Deep Roads.

The guessing games played with Alistair on the way from Cumberland were completely absent on the way back. Lindise had also sung a few songs around the campfires before Paien's death. No longer.

But that smile and Vash's wry humor gave Elissa hope that the Deep Roads had not completely destroyed the people they were.


	27. Chapter 27

Cruso met them at the gate. They returned to a light dusting of snow on the ground and dark gray skies, reflecting the darkness of the elf's mood. Elissa, at the head of the weary procession, came face to face with him before she had even stepped past the large wooden gate. "For having such long human legs, the lot of you are the slowest travellers I have ever known." He shook his head, his eyes slits. "One of your dwarves ran off, then the other is drunk more often than he is sober. And his sober hours are spent trying to get drunk!"

He stepped back, brown eyes widening as he took in the party for the first time. He'd been far too focused on chewing out Elissa that certain absences and new faces had gone entirely unnoticed. "Where is Paien?"

Lindise made a soft sound from the rear, dropped her pack and staff, and moved towards him. Her slim arms wrapped about him in a weak embrace, her head dropping into his shoulder.

Cruso blinked in alarm and automatically wrapped his arms back about her. Fire flashed in his eyes as he turned his furious attention back to Elissa. "What happened to Paien?!"

Elissa's chin dropped. "Dead," she said in a low voice. "His choice."

"He sacrificed himself to save Lindise," Alistair said as he scooped up Lindise's dropped things. "I think we'd all like a hot meal and some rest? I don't think any of us has the energy to get into the specifics."

"And the qunari?" Cruso's large eyes had locked onto the large gray skinned creature.  
>"I am not a qunari. I am a Grey Warden," Vashoth answered in a low rumble.<p>

"Cruso, this is Vashoth." Lindise drew in a breath and straightened. "We'd be dead without him."

The Dale turned back to Lindise, expression softening, "Are you all right?"

She smiled weakly, "I am just so thankful to see you, that's all."

"Ollie!" Cruso barked out to a page, "Go to the kitchens, have them prepare some hot meals. And tell Gwen to heat up water for baths. Now." The round faced page nodded and ran off. Cruso turned back to the others, and motioned inside the Keep.

The flurry of activity upon their return was more subdued than when they had left. Bags were collected, a houseboy showed Vash to a room he could call his own, Lindise slipped away to be the first one in a hot bath, Nathaniel loped off to the kitchens, and Alistair jogged away in search of a proper shave.

Cruso cornered Elissa near the fireplace in the Great Hall, a small stack of letters in his hand. His expression was grim as he plucked one from the stack and held it out to her.

"I do not wish to run this place," he said in a low voice. "The humans do not respect me. I hear them whisper. And then there is the matter of him." He held up the letter. "He wishes only to correspond with you."

The paper of the letter was very old, crumbling and yellow. The ink had a faded red tone, and when she opened it, Elissa could barely read the text. No one wrote like this anymore. There were too many loops in the script, extra letters added in words that time had long since removed."The Architect," Elissa said. She frowned, "He will need to learn to deal with Wardens other than just myself."

Cruso lifted a shoulder, and then leaned in a little closer, "He wishes a meeting. In Kirkwall."

-

It took some time for him to catch his breath, naked body slicked with sweat and head resting on her bare stomach. Finally, he drew in a deep breath and said, "Aah, Elissa Cousland. _There_ you are."

She laughed, her stomach shaking under his head while her fingers slid into his blond hair. "I think that was the homecoming you deserved."

Alistair lifted his head with a grin and his hands roamed up her body to cup her face. He leaned in to kiss her, "Damned right, it was."

She returned the kiss, then relaxed back into the pillows and blankets. She slipped her arms about him and peppered his collarbone with kisses, making him hum with delight.

"So," he said after a long glowing and comfortable silence. "What's next?"

She sighed and rested her head against his chest. "I hate that question."

"I'm all for living in the moment. That's what we agreed to do now, isn't it?" He tilted his head at her. "I'm _really_ enjoying living in the moment. But."

"But what's next," she said, looking back up at him.

"I can let go. At a moment's notice," his thumb stroked her lower lip. "Whatever needs to be done, don't hold back on my account."

"Morrigan," she said at last, and he grimaced.

"You want me along for that one?"

"Well, there is the matter of Kirkwall."

"Right. That's a no."

"It might take months to track her down, Alistair."

"You don't need to-"

"And I need you with the Wardens, seeing to this business with the Architect. It's not-"

"Elissa," he said and pressed a kiss to her mouth to silence her. "You don't need to butter me up or convince me of anything. You want me in Kirkwall, I'll go to Kirkwall. Done."

"I don't _want_ you to go anywhere…"

He grinned and gave her a squeeze. "If I am needed in Kirkwall," he amended, "I shall go to Kirkwall." His grin faded as he sighed, "I just got _off _a ship, though. Do I really have to get right back on?"

"Not tonight," she answered, and kissed him once more.


End file.
